The Proctor of Judgment
by TheRoman987
Summary: A few months after the Giant War, everything seems fine. But after as explosion rips Percy's world apart, he changes. What is he planning, what are his ghostly masters plotting, and what destiny are the Fates setting, high above them all?
1. Prologue- Come to An End

****A/N: Fifth fic, I guess, although one is only a chapter long. Anyways, here's the story!****

****4/2/2014 Edit: Okay, this is a really short chapter. I'm going to try to get them to be from 5 to 7 K words. I'll also try to update every three days or so, every other week. The week that I'm not updating this story, I'm writing ******__**The Golden-Eyed Swordsman.**__**

Disclaimer: This'll have to do for the story, 'cause I'm tired putting these in: I don't own rights to PJO, HOO, KC, or DF. They belong to Rick Riordan and possibly whoever's making the movies.

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text.

Prologue- Death

* * *

**Time: About three months after BOO, no major events happened. Leo's still "dead". Jason's Praetor, along with Reyna. Frank and Hazel are the two Centurions of the Fifth Cohort, Dakota's retired and living in New Rome. Octavian's presumed dead, but is he? Oh, and Pheobe's alive.**

**Percy's POV**

Normal day in Camp Half-Blood. I sucked at Archery as usual, pwned a few people in Swordsmanship, as usual, and now was frantically cleaning up my cabin for inspection, __as usual__.

I shoved my dirty clothes under me bed, straightened up the plants Tyson had brought in last time he visited, and hung my armor on the stand. As soon as I did, someone knocked. Drew was the one inspecting the cabins, mostly 'cause Piper thought she could use the extra work.

"Come in!" I called.

Drew sauntered in, disinterestedly glancing around the cabin, "Two out of five."

"Come on, it can't be that bad!" I protested. As a cabin of one, I really didn't want to do the extra chores.

Drew smiled icily, and her voice changed, "Two. And you, Perseus Jackson, are responsible for the explosion that's going to happen in, oh, fifteen minutes. You did it 'cause you're a cold son-of-a-bitch who didn't want to split being a leader with Annabeth, so you decided to kill her. You're gonna admit it all, and not say __anything__ about me. That alright with you, hon?"

I was frozen in place, her charmspeak washing over me.

"Good." Drew patted me on the cheek, "I knew we could see eye-to-eye on this, sweetie. Have a good life. Oh, and don't warn anyone. In fact, it would be best if you just stayed right here in your cabin."

With that, Drew strode out the door, and left me standing there, shocked. __Explosion? What? Who?__

I tried to run out of the cabin, but my legs wouldn't let me. I was stuck here. When I tried to Iris-Message Chiron, I couldn't say anything. All I could do is watch the clock, counting the minutes. It was 3:05, and four minutes left. 3:06. . . 3:07. . . 3:08. . . 3:09.

I waited, my breath tense. Ten seconds passed. Fifteen. Twenty. __Maybe she's lying. Maybe there isn't-__

__Boom!__ A massive explosion rippled through the camp. The Athena Cabin simply vanished, replaced by a crater and wreckage of a building. Debris flew everywhere, peppering the grass and setting it on fire.. As fate would have it, a Camp Half-Blood necklace hit my window, falling to the sill. It had the same number of beads as Annabeth's. __But it could be her. It just couldn't__.

__Would the Fates be that cruel?__

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Percy! Get out here!" Clarisse called. After the explosion, everyone raced to the ruins of the Athena Cabin. But not me. I was stuck in my cabin.

"Go away!" I yelled back. __Just leave me alone so I can kill myself.__

"If you don't come out here in five seconds, I'm breaking this door down." shouted Clarisse.

When I didn't reply, her boot shattered the door, and she slammed the remainder of it open.

When she saw me, her face lit up with anger. "You're coming with me."

I didn't even try to fight her, just letting myself be dragged to the Big House.

"I do not believe Perseus would have done such a deplorable act!" Chiron was arguing intensely with Mr. D, "His fatal flaw is __loyalty__!"

"Zeus's orders." Mr, D spat, "I'm to take the sea spawn up to Olympus."

Chiron looked defeated, and turned to me, "My boy, do not be afraid. We can prove your innocence."

I nodded back to him, tears filling my eyes. __I am innocent. I'll prove it. And I'll find some way to avenge Annabeth. Oh, gods, why did you have to die?__

Mr. D grabbed me by the arm, and flashed us both into the throne room of the gods, where Poseidon and Zeus were arguing even more heatedly then Chiron and Mr. D.

"The evidence __clearly__ shows that your son has murdered nineteen of Athena's children." Zeus growled.

Aphrodite also looked stricken, "And my daughter!"

"My son did no such thing!" Poseidon shouted back, the air around him glowing blue, mixed with sea green.

Mr. D cleared his throat loudly, then sat in his own throne.

"Perseus Jackson, spawn of Poseidon." Zeus intoned loudly, "We have reason to believe you have set explosives in the cabin of Athena. What do you say in your defense?"

"I say," I hesitated, and my mouth took of on its own, "that I set and detonated the explosives myself, 'cause I'm a cold son-of-a-bitch who wanted more power. You want to kill me? Go ahead. Camp Half-Blood is ruled by the weak. I could do so much better then Annabeth, if you all weren't afraid of us. It looks like you morons can't accept that, though."

The gods gasped, and Athena spoke, outraged, "You admit to killing my sons and daughters?"

There was no mistaking the danger in her voice, but I sneered, "Your sons and daughters are weak and foolish. They deserved to die."

"We __must__ kill him!" Athena was outraged.

"Dike?" Zeus looked at another god in the hall, "Is he guilty?"

Dike, the goddess of judgment, nodded, "He is guilty."

"Put it to a vote." Zeus said, "Who is in favor of sending this __boy__ to the Underworld?"

Zeus raised his hand, along with Hera, Athena, and the rest of the Olympians. All except for Poseidon.

With that, Zeus raised his javelin and plunged it through my chest. The world, needless to say, spun and faded to black.

Then I was just inside probably one of my least favorite places in the world: DOA Recording Studios.

"Why, hello. Do 'ya have a fare?" Charon asked me.

I rifled through my pockets until I found one of the drachmas I always kept on me, in case I needed to Iris-Message someone.

"Here." I said, placing it in his palm.

"You're just in time. Next ferry leaves in," He checked the expensive watch he wore, "One minute."

I sat down, and a minute later, Charon called out, "All damned souls who've paid the fare, get in the elevator."

I walked into the elevator, along with plenty of other people. Among them, I saw Annabeth.

"Seaweed Brain? What're you doing here?" Annabeth was shocked, "Were you caught in the blast, too?"

"Drew charmspoke me into saying I set the explosion. The gods executed me, but I'm innocent." I replied, shocked as well at seeing her, "I'll get into Elysium with you. Together."

We held hands when the elevator turned into the barge, and all the way up to the pavilion where the judges waited. Annabeth went in first, and about fifteen minutes, came out the other side, into Elysium.

I walked up, and passed through the gates into the pavilion that Annabeth had just left. Three robed figures in golden masks looked at me, their gaze seeming to pierce my soul and wrap around it.

"Thwarted Kronos. Saved Olympus." The first ghost said. I knew one of them was Minos, but I didn't know who the other ones were.

"Was instrumental in the fall of Gaea." The second ghost continued.

The third judge hissed, "But what is this? Found guilty by the gods of killing twenty demigods."

"He never performed that act." argued the first judge. "Aedikea, the goddess of misjudgment, ruled in that act."

"An innocent, wrongly accused and put to death." Judge Number Two looked sideways, at the last judge, "He fits the requirements."

"Indeed." the third judge turned to look at me, "It is decided."

"What's decided?" I asked, completely confused.

"We will restore you to life, and in return, you will be our. . . agent." The first judge intoned, "You will exact justice upon those who need it."

"You can kill Drew, avenge your lover." The third judge hissed again, and rage filled my body.

"I'll be your. . . whatever. What do I do?" I spoke, my voice cold.

"Step forward." All three judges spoke as one. My legs moved of their violation, making me kneel before them.

A ghostly pair of hands touch my temples, "I fill you with the combat of the ages. You know all."

My head swelled with fighting techniques and strategies, until it felt like it was going to burst. Another pair of hands clamped onto my skull, "I fill you with the strategies of the ages. You know all."

More knowledge and images, of armies racing across battlefields, of bloody slaughters, until the third pair of hands latched onto my head, "I fill you with the power of the ages. You know all."

With that, the space around me started growing darker, as I suddenly could control the shadows.

"You are know the Proctor of Judgment. Your life is no longer your own." The trio of judges kept speaking, "The darkness is your cloak, and you will take shelter in it. You answer to us, and the Lord of the Underworld, should he command you. Place your blade in front of yourself."

I uncapped Riptide, and placed it on the stone. It vanished, leaving me weaponless. A glowing black door appeared to my side.

"Enter, and be reborn. Once you cross through that door, you will no longer be Perseus Jackson. You will be nameless. You will be unknown."

Without a hesitation, I opened the door and stepped through. The darkness felt like a blanket, wrapping around me, and comforted me. I was in a, walls completely black, with engravings and portraits on each side. I could see images of people from throughout history. Joan of Arc, who was burned at the stake. More recently, I saw Native Americans, doubtlessly hung or shot. African Americans, who were given a death penalty by an all white jury. __We were all innocent, and executed by the law.__ At the end, there was a perfect picture of myself.

I opened the door to expose another hallway, this one still black, but featureless. I stepped through, and doubled over, like someone punched me in the gut. I kept walking as the pain got worse and worse. My skin started itching, but if I touched it, even more agony would race through my body. The end of the hallway was five meters away when it became too much. I fell to my hands and knees, crawling forward. It was one meter away when I slumped, my entire body hitting the ground. Waves of agony pulsed through my core, but I dragged myself forward. The handle was burning hot, like it was molten lead instead of solid silver.

It hurt like Tartaurus. Scratch that, it hurt __worse__. __And I speak from experience.__ My arm was seizing up, but I yanked the handle down and opened the door, then fell through it. Immediately, the pain vanished, and I was in a room. A bed was in one corner, and a racks of weapons lined the walls. On the bed was a note.

"Sleep now. Training begins tomorrow." I tried to put it in my jean pockets, only to discover I wasn't wearing them any more. Instead, I was wearing a leather jacket, with a skull picked out in silver on the back. It somehow had a hood, and under that I was wearing a black t-shirt with the same skull. I wore a black belt, with the skull emblem on the belt buckle, and black, smooth, jeans.

Everything I wore was black, with any metal or designs on it, silver. I had to admit, though, it looked and felt pretty badass. Everything here was black: Stygian Iron blades, the sheets on the bed, the walls. Somehow, there was enough still light to see by, even though there weren't any lightbulbs or lamps. It just. . was.

I lay down on the bed, thinking.__What would this do? Could I get back at Drew? Prove my innocence? Or was she the daughter of Aphrodite who died in the explosion? What was Annabeth thinking, when I never came out of the pavilion? Was she worried?__

To my surprise, I didn't feel anything towards her. I didn't love her anymore. I didn't even care for her anymore. I didn't have any feelings for anyone, in fact. No friends, but one single enemy: Drew.

* * *

****A/N: And he sleeps. Yes, Drew will be an antagonist here, but not the main one. As far as I know, no other story has this idea, and I plan on including a few others. If you've read the character list, yes, Zoe is in this. I promised a Perzoe fic from a poll a while ago. I'm not sure whether to make this Perzoe, or just have Zoe as a character, though.****

****I eat reviews, follows, and favorites. So please do that. That, actually just sounded incredibly weird, so how 'bout this: Reviews = happiness.****


	2. Chapter 1- Jeanne 'd Arc and Declan Ross

**A/N: So this is the first of the 5-8 K words chapters, and it's 8,146 words. Not 10,000, but then again, I don't want it to be.**

**Edit: I moved a scene from later in the story to right here (with Declan). It will be important later, and I also needed to make this consistent with another story I'm starting.**

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text.

Chapter 1- Jeanne d' Arc and Declan Ross

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Wake." It was an order from a female voice, and a hand roughly shook me awake.

I sat up blearily, seeing an about twenty three year-old girl standing there in old-fashioned armor, like something from the time of knights on horseback.

"Follow me." She turned, and strode out the door. Her hair was cut short, and a longsword hung at her waist, "And bring a weapon."

"Which one?"

"Any."

"Umm, okay." I picked out one at random. It was a long handled axe, one sided. From all the know-how that floated around in my head, I knew exactly what to do with it. _So what's the point of training?_

I followed the woman outside, down a hall, and into a separate room, where there were mats laid out on the floor.

"Take up your stance." she said, drawing her longsword in a two-handed grip, and holding it diagonally across her body.

I held my axe with one hand, also across my body. Once we were both ready, she spoke again, "Attack me."

I lunged forward, bringing my axe down in a brutal vertical chop. The woman, whoever she was, spun to the side, making my blow miss completely, then her sword made a long chop across my leg.

I growled, then spun around, my face heating up. This time, I just ran at her. The woman stayed in place, then thrust out in a stab. I tried to move the shaft of the axe to block, but I was too late, and her weapon pierced all the way through my side.

I screamed in pain, falling to the ground. The woman yanked her sword out of my body, "This bout is over."

Immediately, I didn't hurt anymore. There were no more wounds on my body, and my clothes were fixed as well, "How?"

"You have much to learn." she said, "You know what to do with the weapon you carry, but you do not know when, or how. The knowledge fills your head, but it is not yours. I must train you, for you to take that knowledge as your own, so you may serve the Judges as you must."

"Who are you?" I wondered allowed.

"Jeanne d' Arc, at your service." She bowed, "One of the Proctors who have elected to train the new Proctor when he is chosen."

_Jeanne d' Arc? I thought. . . idiot. She's French._

"Should I call you Jeanne or Joan?" I questioned, not knowing what to do.

"Jeanne." Jeanne's eyes light up dangerously, "_Never_ call me Joan. Those Englishmen called me that, and I have no love for the English."

_Oh yeah, they're the ones that killed her. Ouch._

"Now, attack me again, but slower. We need to make you remember _what_ to do in each situation." Jeanne instructed.

I charged, but in slow-mo, and brought the axe down with the same speed. Jeanne turned in the same motion, also slowly.

"Stop." Jeanne commanded me, "What do you do next?"

"I don't know." I trying to remember the movements for this particular situation, but there were so many different weapons and moves, that I couldn't find it. There wasn't exactly a search bar for memories.

"Swing your axe up and to the side at me." As soon as Jeanne said those words, something clicked in my head, and I could see the motion.

My axe, which was near to the floor, came upward, diagonally. Jeanne held the hilt with one hand, then put the other on the flat of the blade, and used the blade to catch the shaft of my axe.

"Good. What do you do know?" Jeanne asked me. I knew what to do know, it was coming back to my, like riding a bike. I slid her blade down the shaft of my axe, until it hit the head, then pulled upward. Still in slow-mo, her sword was wrenched out of her hands, and fell to the floor.

"Now, let's try it in real-time." instructed Jeanne. I did the same vertical chop, but a lot faster. Jeanne sidestepped, and I brought the axe to her side. She blocked it in the same way, but when I tried to jerk it up and complete the motion, Jeanne slid her blade out, and cut me superficially in the cheek.

"We will never do the same thing twice. A warrior learns a sequence, then splits it up into moves. You will not learn to hook your opponent's blade, you will learn to chop, spin, then hook the blade. But the knowledge you will gain _is _how to hook your opponents blade, how to chop, and how to spin." Jeanne admonished, "You will never learn if we keep doing the same thing over and over. Again."

I charged her, but Jeanne made a two-handed slash. I caught it on the haft of my axe, then tried to bring the head down on her, but she sidestepped, and kicked with a metal-booted leg. My own legs moved to slowly and tried to back up, but her boots still tore skin. It stung like Hades.

My axe came horizontally at Jeanne again. This time, she stepped in close so that the shaft of the axe bounced harmlessly off of her armor, then punched me hard in the gut. With a metal-plated hand. I doubled over, gasping and coughing

_That metal fist isn't all that different from a hammer._

"Better." Jeanne said as I got up, "Again."

_This'll be a long day. . ._

* * *

**Time Skip: 7 Days (1 Week)**

**Percy's POV**

"Proctor. Your first mission is to kill this man." A Judge, I couldn't tell who, said, and laid a hand on my head. A series of images and memories were suddenly implanted, "John Pope."

"Kill? I though this was something about judging?" I asked, startled, looking up.

"After you kill him, his soul comes down here, where the Judges cast him where they will." Jeanne explained, whispering in my ear, "It is not your place to question. Obey the Judges."

I nodded. In this week, I learned how to use a flail besides the axe I carried, and could shadow-travel successfully about a fourth of the time.

"Then go. Your Stygian Iron blades will effect them, unlike Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold." The Judge ordered. I nodded, then sprinted into the shadows. Fortunately, I _didn't_ bounce off, instead re-appearing in downtown Massachusetts. I leaned up against the wall I came out of, gasping for breath as I tried to stay awake. After a few minutes, my breathing steadied, and I could start walking again.

The shadier side of the town loomed in front of me, where everything was more run-down and some were even empty. I climbed up one building, using the vantage point on the rooftop to look around. Surprisingly, the abandoned theatre was only a few blocks away. It seemed almost too easy.

About fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of the cinema. The glass on the doors was completely shattered and debris was thrown about on the inside.

"Turn aroun' an' walk away, punk, an' ya migh' live." I could hear someone right behind me, and felt a prick in the back. A knife, of course.

I spun, snapping my elbow into his nose and grabbed his knife hand, plunging it into his heart. The actions were automatic, driven from memories I had. _I just killed a mortal. It was so. . . easy._

The thought frightened me, but I pushed through the door anyways. There were a bunch of people on the stage, all drinking heavily. Among them, I saw shoulder-length brown hair and whiskers of a mustache/beard. John Pope, my target. No one had noticed me, so I stalked forward in the shadows.

I was only a meter from the stage when they noticed me. "Hey! Who're you?"

I though about a one-liner, but decided against that, and sprinted up on the stage. My axe got embedded in the closest gang member's throat and I ripped it out, killing him. A big guy, ripped with muscles and tattoos, swung a bat with a clumsy blow at me. It bounced off my weapon's shaft, then I kicked him in the leg and moved on. A woman punched me in the back, but with no style or real strength. Spinning around, I drew a knife with my left hand, and plunged it into her shoulder. She was also out of the fight.

That left three men, including Pope. _Who were all drunk_. I stabbed the first in the gut with the blunt end of my axe, and the second man met the head in a bloody union. Pope scrambled backwards, drawing a revolver and pointed it at me. He tripped, though, and fell onto his back. The revolver flew out of his hand and left him without a weapon. I calmly strode up and slit his jugular with the same knife I embedded in the woman's shoulder. He was all but dead now, and I left the two gang members who were still alive lying on the floor, bleeding.

_My job is done here, I guess._

Most of the theatre was in shadow, so I ran at one shadow in particular. It didn't work this time, and I ran into the wall. I shook my head, focused, and tired again. No dice. Gritting my teeth, I lunged forward, then went into the darkness until I stumbled out of a wall. Jeanne d' Arc was right in front of me, and I slammed into her, too. She was, of course, wearing armor, so it hurt even more than running into a wall. At least, unlike a wall, she fell over.

"Did you kill him?" Jeanne asked, after climbing to her feet.

"Yeah." I replied, "It felt so easy, though. It was easy to kill a mortal."

"As it will always be." Jeanne put a hand on my shoulder, "It is the simple act of killing, just like a monster. Once you earn the Sword, you will learn that death does not harm your soul, if it is done by necessity or justice."

I sighed, "I guess you're right. I was wondering, what if I faced an opponent with two weapons, when I only have one?"

Jeanne looked at me, "I'm not supposed to give you these yet, but I feel you will use them well. Come with me."

I followed her to the other side of the room, where she took out a pair of metal half-cylinders, that looked shaped to fit a fore-arm.

"Put these on." Jeanne instructed. They had buckles on the underside, so I pulled them tight on my forearm. They weren't gauntlets, but I didn't remember what they were.

"What pieces of armor are these?" Jeanne asked, quizzing me.

I shrugged, "I don't know. Forearm shields?"

Jeanne sighed, "Vambrances."

"Oh, right. I knew that." They looked a lot less cool then they did in Assassin's Creed, and they didn't have any hidden blades. _Whatever. I have plenty of other weapons._

"Put your axe away and defend yourself." instructed Jeanne. I slid the shaft of the axe into a narrow cylinder on my back and stood with my hands out.

Jeanne slashed with her longsword, lunging forward tried to time the block perfectly, but I was too slow and received a cut on my arm as a result.

"You have to do better than that. Do not try to get the timing perfect yet. Learn how first, then expand on that." Jeanne ordered.

She swung again, but this time I started moving my arm a lot earlier, and her sword clanged off my vambrances. _Hey, that actually worked!_

Sometime during the rest of the day, I realized I was actually enjoying myself. As a product of all the knowledge the Judges forced into my head, everything was coming naturally. I already knew what to do, I just had to do it.

_Like clockwork, I guess. But this clock jams a whole frakkin' lot. And each time it jams, I get hit again._

Eventually, Jeanne called it a night and sent me back to my room, exhausted but contented with my new lot in life.

* * *

**Time Skip- 7 Days (1 Week)**

**Percy's POV**

In the last week, they had sent me out on one more mission, this one to kill a serial rapist. I did, of course, as the Judges ordered. In the meantime, however, Jeanne was training me with even more weapons. Now that I got into the flow of training, I started to learn faster and faster, sometimes even mastering a weapon in a day. Jeanne was still better then me by a long way, though.

Jeanne stabbed, but I used my weapon, a khopesh, to hook the longsword away. Then I took the advantage and slammed her wrist with the pommel of my sword. Involuntarily, Jeanne's hand opened and the sword clanged on the ground. Jeanne jumped back, and held out her hand, which surprised me. _What, she expects the sword to fly into her hands?_

The longsword disappeared from the ground, the re-appeared in Jeanne's hands,

"No fair." I complained, "How' you do that?"

"I am a Proctor, albeit a dead one, but we all can control the darkness. Once you earn the Sword, you will understand our powers." Jeanne nodded to me, "Make your weapon shadow-travel into your hand."

_Ugg, why does she keep mentioning that "Sword"? She never tells me anything. _I raised an eyebrow, then dropped the sword, "Good. Now imagine the sword in your hands. Believe it is there. Force it to be so."

I concentrated, and the sword disappeared from the ground. My aim was a bit off, though, so the sword fell edge first into my palm, opening a nasty gash.

"Maybe with a bit more practice." Jeanne admitted, "But you will get the hang of it. And you will never have to carry your weapons around again. This match is over."

As soon as she said those words, the wound on my palm closed over, "How d'you do that?"

"You say "Match over" or "Practice over." A synonym of those words. Then all your injuries heal, along with your clothes." Jeanne explained, "Do not ask me how it works, for I do not know."

"Umm, okay." I replied, a little awkwardly.

"Good." Jeanne said, "The Judges have another mission for you. This one is harder."

I shadow-traveled up to the Pavilion, where one of the Judges waited. As usual, the hand gripped my skull as the memories transferred. The leader of a smuggling den, getting illegal drugs across the States.

I nodded, and concentrated. My skills at shadow-traveling had gotten a lot better, so now I could pull it off four times out of five. Sure enough, I stumbled out of a shadow in the same location as the picture. No one was here, currently, so I hunkered down in the tree line.

In only a few minutes, a truck drove up and people started jumping out. Seconds later, an identical truck arrived. _Why bother with two?_

People started crisscrossing between the two, transferring crates of who-knows-what. Then they dragged a few women out of the first truck, and threw them into the second. I burst out of the treeline, drawing my axe in one hand, and the khopesh in my left. The first man fell quickly, his head lopped off while I moved on to the second and third. The fourth man threw a crate at me, so I rolled to the side and ended up on my feet.

My axe got embedded in the fourth guy's shoulder, and the fifth was sliced from shoulder to groin by my khopesh. By my count, that left three. Then a truck's engine rumbled, and the second truck, now full of all the cargo, drove away. _I've failed._

Moving quickly, I beheaded the two smugglers I didn't kill earlier, then disappeared into the shadows, re-appearing in the Judging Pavilion. I knelt in front of the Judges. "I have failed."

I could feel them glare through their masks, "Failure is not an option. You _must_ learn that."

One of the Judges reached out and grabbed me by the arm. We both appeared in a room I had never seen before, with a thin man I had never seen before.

"Tie him in. Five lashes." The man grabbed my wrists and tied them to a pole. _I was going to be whipped!_

I tried to protest, but the Judge _tsked_ in disapproval, "Failure is insufferable, Proctor. For your first time, you get off _very_ lightly. But that will change."

My shirt and leather jacket vanished, leaving my back exposed. The man raised his whip, then cracked it down on my back. _Holy Hades, that hurts!_

The second lash felt like a long branding iron, and I barely managed not to cry out it pain. I gritted my teeth. _If I was gonna get punished, I'll take it like a man._

The third stroke slapped across my back, tearing skin there. It hurt even worse now, but not as much as Tartaurus did, with the swarms of _arai_. That was the thought my mind clung to when the fourth and fifth lashes struck my back.

"You took it well, Proctor." the Judge said, with a note of respect in his voice, "Return to training."

With that, my clothes re-appeared, and I shadow-traveled back to the training room. Jeanne was standing there with another man, this one wearing Roman style armor. They seemed evenly matched, longsword against _gladius_ and legionary shield.

"Your pupil returns." the man spoke in a deep voice, with an accent I couldn't quite place, "I will take my leave."

With that, he simply disappeared. No shadow-traveling, just gone.

"How did the mission go?" Jeanne asked, turning to me.

"I failed it. Three got away." I replied, my eyes downcast.

"Do not worry, you will not fail too many." Jeanne encouraged, "And you will get adapt to the whippings. The wounds will heal quickly, without scarring."

My back felt like it was on fire, "How long?"

"They will be completely gone in a week." Jeanne smiled, "But the pain will be less with each passing day."

"I guess I'll just have to get used to it, then." I shrugged, then immediately regretted that decision as my back erupted into even more pain.

"Don't try to move your shoulders too much. Besides, this will help one of your problems." Jeanne added, "You always slouch slightly. Keep your head up and your shoulders back."

I straightened, and the cloth from my shirt came off my wounds, "Thanks. That helped."

"Thank me by keeping like that." Jeanne instructed, "Now, I am guessing in that you don't want to fight like this, so we will review several battle stratagems."

_And I thought school's over once you died. Heads up, kids, suicide is not the option. School'll haunt you forever._

She led me out of the room, over to another. This room had a table on it, with little blocks. Working quickly, Jeanne arranged them so there were twice as many red blocks as blue blocks.

"What would the outnumbered army do in this situation?" Jeanne questioned me. The map showed several valleys, with cliffs on either side. The red army was advancing through those valleys, while the blue army stood in a field, outnumbered.

"I don't know." I scratched my head, "Get beaten?"

"A good commander is never beaten." Jeanne admonished, "They would retreat if they could, or sell their lives dearly if they could not. What could the blue army do to offset their difference in numbers?"

"I don't know. Retreat and get reinforcements?" I asked.

Jeanne sighed, "Send a force into each ravine and plug it up. The red army would not be able to use their numbers effectively. Since the red and blue armies can only have as many soldiers facing each other as the valley allows, the blue army can limit the number of opponents they face. Do you understand?"

I nodded dutifully, and she changed the board so that the blue far outnumbered the red.

"Now what would happen?"

* * *

**Percy's POV**

For the last two hours, Jeanne taught me about different scenarios, and what commanders should do in each of them.

"Now my head hurts." I groaned, "How do you know so much?"

"Before I became a Proctor, I did a great deal of commanding and advising in the French Army of that time. They believed me as sent from the Christan God, but after my death, I learned I was an ordinary girl." Jeanne grinned, "Then, as I became Proctor, the Judges gave me the knowledge of strategies, which they also gave you. You know them just as well as I do, you just have to remember. Accept the memories as your own, so that you may use them well."

I nodded, then tried to search my memories for military strategy. Like when I learned how to fight with the different weapons, it was slow going at first. Jeanne would explain stuff, then I would remember it. It was tough, and my attention span was never the best to begin with.

_I guess I have ADHD to thank for that._

By the end of the day, I was completely worn out from all the thinking and puzzling.

"Sleep now. We will continue tomorrow, and return to combat if you feel ready for it." Jeanne instructed. I was never more grateful to fall asleep.

The next morning, the lashes still hurt, but I couldn't feel any raised skin. My back was still tender, but I could fight without too much discomfort.

"Ah, good. You are feeling moderately better, I hope?" Jeanne asked when I hit the training room.

"What? Oh, yeah, yeah. Thanks for asking." I replied.

"Catch." She tossed a long pole with a blade at the end to me. I caught it in my right hand, then the name came to me. _A glaive_.

"That is a glaive." Jeanne confirmed, "You use it somewhat like a polearm, but you have more versiality with the blade."

Jeanne held her longsword at the ready, so I swung the glaive downward so the bladed end would hit her. Jeanne, for her part, stepped forward and held her longsword with two hands. My glaive stopped dead in the air, "Now you swing the butt around to hit me in the side."

I did as I was told, slowly bring the shaft against the side of her stomach."Good. Step back. This time, use the end of the shaft to stab me in the thigh or stomach."

_Ah, so that's what the pointy end's for._

The glaive had a metal end that helped balance off the weight of the blade, and also gave me another option of attacking. I stabbed down at her thigh, but her weapon came down and knocked it away. The next sequence of moves lined up in my head, so I brought the bladed end on her opposite shoulder. Her longsword somehow intercepted that, too, then she punched me in the gut with a metal-plated fist.

"You know how to use the glaive, if not as well as you need to. But you _must_ remember your hands, feet, elbows, and even your head are weapons. As well as your opponents." Jeanne instructed, "When I strike, you can block with you vambrances as well. You do not have them for decoration."

I nodded, "How do you keep track of all this?"

_And how do you fight like that?_

"Experience, born from years of fighting. I do not have that much time to train you, but you are a demigod. Your ADHD allows you to keep track of the world around yourself." Jeanne replied, "It does not come easily for anyone. Thus, we train. Again."

My glaive bounced off her longsword again and again, but the punch never came. So instead, while our weapons were locked together, I grabbed her wrist and kicked flat-footed into her knee. Jeanne's leg gave out from under her, pulling us both to the floor. I was on top, and aimed a punch at her face. Jeanne's gauntleted fist caught mine, then her forehead slammed into my nose. My world flashed white as I fell off her, holding my nose and gasping. _Di immortals! That frakkin' hurts!_

"This bout is over." Jeanne called. Immediately, the pain vanished the my nose was as fine as it always was, "You did well, but if I had a helmet on, my headbutt would have the potential to kill you. Use caution, and find possible outcomes before committing to a course of action. Again."

Jeanne picked up her longsword while I held my glaive at the ready. _This time, I'll beat her._

* * *

**Time Skip- 3 Months**

**Percy's POV**

"The Judges have a mission for you, Proctor." Jeanne said, "Perhaps you will earn the Sword today.

_Sword? Again?_ Pushing that thought out of my ming, I nodded and shadow-traveled up to the Judging Pavilion. The Judges were arguing back and forth for ten minutes before one deigned to acknowledge me.

"Proctor. This is your mission." The usual influx of memories, felt natural now as I've completed more then twenty missions. Of those, I failed another and earn another ten lashes from it.

Without a word, I disappeared. Carlos Whigel, a man started shooting up a school only a few minutes ago. A red-haired man of more then forty years, with a spattering of freckles and a bushy mustache. I appeared in the school, seeing bullet-holes in the walls, and hearing more fire coming from my left. I sprinted off in that direction as the shooting grew louder.

Turning the corner, I saw him shooting through the window into a classroom. Moving quietly and taking my time. _After all, he isn't going anywhere. Pity about the children, though_. My knife sprouted from his throat, then disappeared as it disappeared back to my hand. _Mission complete. If only all of them could be that easy_.

I heard some crying from inside of the classroom, and I risked a glance inside. Maybe two dozen kindergärtners, most of them shot, along with their teacher. I felt a bolt of sadness shoot through me that I quickly locked away. _Can't feel that, Proctor. Not allowed._

Soon, I was back in the Pavilion. The same Judge was still there.

"Why did you look into the classroom?" The Judge demanded.

"I'm sorry." I replied, my head lowered, "I should've returned immediately."

"Yes. You should have. Three lashes for that, and two more for letting the children see you." The Judge said. _Oh, come on. It's not like that did anything_.

I took the lashes quietly, having been whipped a more than few times since the first failed mission. I hadn't gotten use to it. _But why bother struggling? Nothing will change._

"Return to your training." The Judge ordered, and I disappeared.

Taking up my current weapon, a long dagger like Annabeth's, I was back in the training room.

"Was it a success?" Jeanne asked. She couldn't ask what the mission was, if I killed anybody, or what I did in the mission, just whether I accomplished my objectives.

"Yes, although I messed up slightly, glanced in the wrong place." I rolled my shoulders, the pain from the lashes rippling through my body, then sighed, "Sometimes I think they'd rather have an automaton then a human."

Jeanne chuckled slightly, "The Judges do not wish for a soulless beast. They need to have you completely compliant to them. The sooner you pass the training, the sooner you will be able to use your discretion in certain matters and not be punished."

"You haven't told me that yet." I stated, surprised.

"No, I haven't." Jeanne, in the middle of her statement, lunged forward. I deflected the point of her sword off the blade of my dagger. A tricky move, but I pulled it off. Jeanne's momentum kept carrying her forward, so I snapped my elbow back, catching her nose. Meanwhile, her fist crunched into my side. _Darnit, remember to block, idiot. That could've been a knife. And I'd be dead._

Jeanne stepped back and we surveyed each other. Blood ran down from her nose, and at least one of my ribs was cracked. This time, I attacked, charging forward. Jeanne's longsword swung at my left side, but it clanged off my vambrance. I stabbed at the chain-filled gap between her breastplate and leggings, but Jeanne grabbed the blade in her gauntlets. We struggled for a few seconds, then I rammed my forehead into her already broken nose. Jeanne stumbled backwards, and I pressed the advantage. I grabbed her right arm and yanked, forcing the joint in the wrong direction. Then, I kicked her legs out from under her, then rammed Jeanne full strength into the floor.

"Match over." I stated. My cracked rib healed, and Jeanne boosted herself off the floor.

"It is indeed. Congratulations, this is the fifth time you have beaten me, I believe." Jeanne said, looking me up and down, "You are finished with the dagger. Pick your next weapon."

I looked through the racks of weapons, then chose a longsword, making it appear in my hand. Jeanne laughed, "My chosen weapon. Very well."

I rushed forward, slamming my own longsword down. Jeanne blocked, laughing, and kicked me in the gut, throwing me backwards. "Proctor, I am much more skilled with this weapon then you. You cannot go on the offensive against a far superior enemy without knowing a weakness that you may exploit."

I took her advice and held the longsword up, ready to block. Jeanne came at me like a whirlwind, pressing me back. I could barely block all of her strikes, any thought of hitting back going out of my mind. Her sword clanged off my vambrance, the off my sword. Eventually, Jeanne simply beat the weapon out of my hand. She spun while she crouched, her leg catching my and sending me to the ground.

"A fine start." Jeanne stood up and gave me a hand, "But you have much to learn about the longsword."

* * *

**Declan's POV**

"Anything?" I asked hopefully. Clarisse, the other "leader" of Camp Half-Blood, shook her head tiredly.

"Nothing." She replied, "I didn't expect to find anything, either. It's been over a week since Draco died and the punk had it coming, if you ask me."

"And yet," I commented, "We're still looking for the killer."

"He's a demigod. Whoever killed him is a threat." Clarisse replied bluntly, "Anything new happen here?"

Clarisse had taken a few Ares campers to look for a something that killed Draco Lanstead a while back. The tracks disappeared, but Clarisse went in that direction, looking for anything. Meanwhile, I was stuck in Camp, trying to be the leader Annabeth or Percy was. _Before Percy decided to blow things up, that is. _But they were both gone, and in their absence, Clarisse and I had risen to power. A son of Hecate and a daughter of Ares.

I groaned, "Leo's still missing, the Roman games at the end of summer. Nothing new."

Clarisse raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing me. But that was a headache for another time, "I'm going for a walk."

We were both inside the War Room before I left, heading for the forest. After Leo's discovery of Bunker Nine a bit more then a year ago, people were constantly trying to find more secrets hidden in the forest. _Idiots. It's just a forest._

As always, my sword was at my waist, my shield slung over my back. _No way I'm gonna be caught defenseless._

The first monster I came across was something with a goat head and goat legs. Not a Satyr, for sure, and not very friendly. My eyes glowed purple for a few seconds as I used my powers as a son of Hecate.

The goat-man spun, raising the stick it was using as a weapon to block a fake strike from an imaginary demigod. While it was distracted, I ran it through contemptuously. _An easy kill. _I kept going, encountering -and killing- a few more monsters before I tripped and fell down some dark hole.

My sword was still in my hand, though, so I stabbed it in to the wall. It slowed my fall, but I still hit the ground with a heavy thud. The first thing I did was look for a delta, the mark of Daedulus. Luckily, I didn't see one, and started looking for a way out. An opening led off to the side, but I couldn't see very far down it. _Call for help, stay here, or go into that creepy cave. Ugg, who am I kidding?_

I walked deeper into the darkness, cursing. The Celestial Bronze of my sword was glowing slightly, giving me some light, but it wasn't much. For some reason, there was another light source up ahead. It was a pool of water, but it didn't look ordinary. _After all, it's glowing._

At the bottom was a majestic sword. It's blade was Celestial Bronze, Stygian Iron inlaid on either side if the blade with the black metal going up to the point. It was a standard Greek shape, except the pommel was a bit bigger than usual. The hilt itself was as beautiful as the blade: Bronze-colored leather with Stygian Iron thread running into the pommel. The pommel was large-ish, diamond shaped and made of Celestial Bronze. Lastly, what looked like _actual_ diamonds were embedded in the sides.

On an impulse, I reached into the water and grabbed the sword in my right hand. As soon as I took it out of the water, the cave lit up and I felt a tingling in my palm. Passing the sword to my left hand, I glanced down, seeing a black mark on my palm, with a horizontal line and a half-circle above it. Short, wavy lines protruded out from the half-circle, completing the shape. _A sunrise? What is this thing?_

Somehow, even though we were deep underground, there was a gust of wind, and a spirit appeared. It was wearing a red cloak with a dragon crest. At his side was an empty sheath, and on his head was a golden crown. But it was the dragon crest that really caught my attention. _King Arthur._

Not really knowing what to do, I knelt to him, "King."

"You have in your hand a blade I once called Excalibur." King Arthur said, his voice rich and kingly, "Beware, for that is a hungry blade. It will endeavor to use you for it's own purposes."

_Excalibur? I thought it was made of steel?_ "I'm sorry, my lord, but isn't Excalibur made of steel, and not a Greek blade?"

"It is, or rather, can be made of steel. Look upon it, demigod."

I glanced down to see that Excalibur changed to a long, straight, steel blade with a silver crossguard that looked like two Chimera heads spewing fire. It's hilt was still leather, but this time it was leather straps and the pommel was gone. Inscribed on the blade itself was a sentence: _Take me up, cast me away._ Flipping the blade, I saw the inscription mirrored on the opposite side.

"In any form, the Sword you carry is the Sword of Light, an ancient blade." King Arthur's eyes filled with sorrow, "With that Sword, you control light in all of it's myriad forms, but there is another Sword, the Sword of Fire, and there will always be contention between you. Two others, Water and Shadow, may not always be against you, but you must be wary of their owners."

King Arthur paused, then continued, "An army holding a Sword at it's head is nigh unstoppable, but having great power does not make one invincible. Be wary of a dagger in the night, or a cup poisoned with nightshade. For others will desire this Sword for their own, and those who take it in jealousy lose it just as quickly."

"My lord, how is this blade _hungry_?"

"It yearns for blood and death. In the beginning, you will quell it's impulses easily, but the more creatures that die by your blade, the more powerful Light will get. Not as in the power it lends you, but the power it uses to influence you." King Arthur's gaze dropped to the floor, "Light, more than Fire or Shadow, which I also owned for a time, was the ruin of me. The Proctor took Shadow, and Mordred did the same with Fire. But I had killed too many with Light, and it controlled me."

With that, he disappeared, leaving me with a powerful weapon and mind full of questions.

* * *

**Time Skip: Nine Months**

**Percy's POV**

"Twenty-eight." _Snap_, The whip left another welt across my back, "Twenty-nine."

The thirtieth lash hit my bare back, then the huge man uncuffed me. Minos was watching the whole punishment. "Thirty."

I had just failed another mission, making it six so far out of dozens, "Proctor, you have earned the rest of the day to rest and recover. Tomorrow will be your final mission before your training is complete."

I groaned, somehow getting back to my room and lying face-down on my bed. I fell asleep, dreaming of the mission that put me here.

"_Someone's here!" A guard shouted, before a silver arrow sprouted from his throat. The Hunt? Why the frak would they be here?_

_I jumped down from my perch on top of the building across from my target. Thalia shouted behind me, then an arrow embedded itself into my shoulder. Stumbling, I kept going, kicking in the door before sprinting my way up some stairs. Footsteps pounded after me as the Hunters gave chase. Soon, I was on the same floor as my target, a fat man named Rodriguez._

_I charged out the door, turning left. Another arrow struck my in the thigh, but I kept pushing onwards. Rodriguez's office was empty, but the window was open, leading to a fire escape. Frak._

_Lunging out the window, I missed the railing and went over the side. Purely through luck, my hand locked onto the railing on another level, slamming me into the wall. Then my grip broke, sending me to the ground._

_Silver arrows fell around me, some of them hitting and killing my target, and I thought I was about to die. Then, I disappeared._

"_Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon and Proctor of Judgment." I was.. . . . I didn't know where I was. It was a dark plains, with shadowy mountains in the background and a starless night. Facing me were three ancient lades holding yarn and knitting needles. The Fates._

"_Yeah?" I managed to get out._

"_Your string has not yet been cut." One of them held out a strand of yarn. It was black with strands of blue and sea-green running through it. But, the strange thing was that another strand was wound around it, this one looking like dark blonde hair. The way they were inter woven, it would be impossible to cut one without the other._

_The strand that was between that Fates' hands, apparently portraying the present, was alone._

"_Your destiny is not over, Perseus Jackson."_

"_What is my destiny?"_

"_Not your own." Then, everything disappeared, sending me back to the Judging Pavilion._

"_This is the sixth time you have failed a mission. You have allowed the Hunters to interfere." A Judge scorned me. Minos, of course, "Any who get in your way, you get rid of. Monster, demigod, mortal, or immortal."_

_I bowed, not speaking, "Because of your failure, you will be whipped. Thirty lashes."_

I woke just as the first stroke of the whip cracked across my back. My watch said it was four o' clock AM. _Time to get up_. The last year had been good to me. Muscles rippled across my frame, and now I could shadow-travel the whole day without getting exhausted.

The Pavilion was full of people, so I waited in the background. I sat cross-legged, reviewing different fighting styles and combinations in my head until the crowd cleared.

"Proctor." One of the Judges called. Now, the Pavilion was empty, the gates closed. Unlike previous missions, all three of the Judges were here, "Take this sword, and return it to it's owner. Then bring her down here. But do not force her. Cajole her, convince her, but we will need Zoe Nightshade at our side."

Riptide appeared in front of me, in pen form. Shocked, I picked it up and slid it in my pocket, "Where can I find her?"

"Detroit." The Judge gripped my skull with the other two Judges watching carefully. I saw what the Judges assumed happened: When Atlas had been freed by Luke, he conceived another child with Pleione. After Zoe died, she tried for re-birth. The Judges placed her consciousness in the womb of Pleione instead of someone else. Now, as the demigod daughter of two immortals, she was stuck in foster care. But after several monster attacks on foster families, only the greasiest kinds of people wanted her. _As a slave._

I disappeared from the Pavilion, reappearing in front of the apartment where Zoe Nightshade was. At least, I tried to. Instead, I ended up at the other side of the city, in front of an automaton instead of a building.

"We have been ordered by the Judges to prevent you from getting to-," it recited the address, "by any means necessary."

_Hmph. This'll be. . . different._

The automaton unsheathed a sword while two others came from either side of me, brandishing spears. All three of them attacked in sync, but I rolled backwards and got to my feet. _Crude, but fast. I'll have to fight one at a time until I learn their style._

Lunging to the side, I managed to get all three of them in a line. Summoning a javelin, I cast, but one of the spear-wielding ones knocked it away. I guess I'll call him One, the swordsman Two, and the last spearman Three.

One leapt at me, but I spun, grabbing my axe out of the air. The weapon cleaved downward on Three, but the automaton caught the shaft of the axe on it's spear. Grinning, I wrenched downward. The spear shattered at the axe went through it, then Two's sword cut me high on the cheek. I stepped backwards, eyeing my opponents. Now, Three had it's fists up instead of another weapon. One jumped towards me, trying to run me through, but I knocked his spear away with my vambrance and buried my axe in it's neck. _Well, one down, two to go._

Two's sword came in low and to my right, but my leg came up, and the sword clanged off a greave I wore now. Meanwhile, I wrenched my axe out of One's twitching neck, and embedded it in Two's side. Three's punch caught me in the gut, but one metal fist didn't feel too different from another, and I was _very _used to Jeanne punching me. I grabbed it's neck, then slammed it full-body into Two. Quickly, I recovered my axe and finished them both off.

I headed inward to the city, then saw a huge building loom in front of me. _Greektown Casino Hotel. Well, now I feel right at home_. I chuckled to myself, then took out a phone.

_Directions from Greektown Casino Hotel to Sislon Apartments. Oh, it's not that far_. I started jogging, then something heavy fell on me. It was another automaton, this one with a dagger. Fortunately for me, it missed a stab when it landed on me. My arm shot out and grabbed his dagger arm, but as a machine it was far too strong. _Wait, if it's a machine, what's it powered by?_

Using my legs, I flipped us so that I was on top, then grabbed a bunch of wires and pulled. They sparked as I wrenched them out of place, but nothing happened. The automaton, meanwhile, grabbed my throat and threw my into a nearby wall. Groaning, I got to one knee and held my hand out. Several gallons of water materialized right above the automaton, and crashed down. With a flurry of sparks and popping sound, it fell. _Well, that works. Jeanne said not to face an opponent that could be superior unless you know a weakness, and now I do_.

This time I exercised more caution and held my axe with one hand as I passed into the more shady section of Detroit. Now I could see a few skinhead groups in alleys, then one was stupid enough to try their luck.

"Hey! Gimme ya' money!" He yelled, "Punk! Gimme ya' money!"

When I didn't reply, he took out a switchblade, then he and his gang came after me. I waited , my axe in hand while they ran at me. The first one had a bat, swinging wildly. It bounced off the shaft of my axe, the I punched him in the jaw. The next was the guy with the switchblade, who wasn't so lucky. My axe was buried in his side while the last two looked at me, then ran away. _Mortals. Always making threats that they can't keep._

A few minutes later, I arrived at Silson Apartments, a somewhat run-down building that looked grubby in every sense of the word. I walked inside where an old man stood at a dirty booth.

"I'm looking for a young girl. Zoe Nightshade." I said, holding my axe against his neck, "Tell me where she is, and you'll live."

"Thirty-four B! Third floor! I swear!" The old man replied.

I nodded, then went over to the elevator, pressing the three. A minute later, I climbed out to see long rows of doors on either side. It stank of cigarette smoke, and the walls were stained. Beer bottles littered the place. _Room thirty-four B. Where are you?_

"Get me more beer, girly!" I heard someone yell. It was coming from the same room the apartment foreman indicated. I waited for a moment longer to hear the "girly's" reply. Some quiet footsteps, then the smack of a fist and a cry of pain. There was no doubt about it: Zoe.

* * *

**A/N: I think Zoe'll fill an adopted younger sister role more than anything else. And you know how I said last chapter was a prologue? In reality, these first few chapters are.**

**You know, I've read a few books where Excalibur is the Sword of Water (or Ice) and I keep thinking: This isn't right, do some research. "thenne he drewe his swerd Excalibur, but it was so breyght in his enemyes eyen that it gaf light lyke thirty torchys."- A quote from _Le Morte D'Arthur_, the compilation of many King Arthur myths/tales.**

**Please review, I live on feedback (so if you don't review, I die). On the other hand, if you review a lot, I get too fat to rise from my chair, which means the only thing I can do. . . . is write. So, more reviews = more writing.**


	3. Chapter 2- Zoe Nightshade

**A/N: This is the former chapters 5 through 7, but edited. If you were reading this story before, this is completely knew and somewhat important.**

**Oh, and at present, I'm assuming the President's a Democrat. So, if you read this after 2016, or from a different country, allow me to explain it: In America, two factions generally control the Legislative functions of the government, and contest for control of the Executive functions. The head, or "Chief" Executive is the President, and is elected every four years.**

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text

Chapter 2- Zoe Nightshade

* * *

**Percy's POV**

Quickly and quietly, I opened the door.

"Wha's wit' all dat "ye Ol' English"?" A voice slurred out, "Wha's wron' wit' her?"

"Who knows, who cares?" It was a third person, also drunk by the sound of it, "Been like tha' since she were b'rn."

_So, she still sounds someone out of the Dark Ages._

I slowly crept around the corner to find three generally grubby guys playing seven card stud on a table, with beer cans and cigarettes littering the floor. Zoe Nightshade still had black hair, coppery skin, and amber eyes. Her clothes were dirty and torn, her eyes fearful of the men playing poker. _So, how can I get her to join me in the Underworld? Be a knight in shining armor? Why not?_

I pounded on the wall, making one of them call, out, telling whoever's there to go away. The second time I pounded, the same one got up and turned around to see me, "Who're you?"

"One who is concerned with the girl you are the guardian of." I said, keeping my words vague and confusing. As I was hoping, the man tried to hide his confusion with belligerence.

"So?" He demanded. _So you're Ugly One, and your two friends are Ugly Two and Three._

"So I will take her from your custody." I replied calmly and coolly.

The man laughed, "She's mine. Got pape'-wor' an' everythin'."

"I'm sure you do. I have papers of my own, signed by the President himself, that I am to take custody of the girl for security reasons." I said, snapping my fingers to summon the Mist. _Maybe they're too drunk for that to work. Then I'll have some fun with them._

"Tha' hac'? He ain't makin' me do anythin'!" Ugly One yelled and turned to his friends, "Ya' gonna take any guff fr'm tha' radical?"

_Great. Republicans, and I just mentioned the President. Just fantastic. Why would there be Republicans in this shit-hole?_

Uglies Two and Three got up from the table, and Ugly One threw a wild hook at me. I caught his fist in my palm, then twisted it until he was on the ground, crying as I twisted his arm too close to it's breaking point. Moving quickly, I broke it and yanked him upwards as Uglies Two and Three clumsily came at me. I shoved Ugly One forward, and he hit Ugly Two, leaving Ugly Three alone. Ugly Three tried a weak cross with his left hand, which bounced off my chest as I grabbed his head and jerked it to the side. His neck broken, Ugly Three fell to the ground, leaving Ugly Two. Ugly One got to his feet, then turned and ran.

"Do you really want to keep fighting?" I asked. Ugly Two's lip quivered, then he started crying. Zoe Nightshade was curled up in a corner, no doubt waiting for me to hurt her in some way. Now that I could look her over properly, I could see bruises and cuts all over her body, along with signs of malnourishment. She also looked to be about twelve or thirteen. _How? The last Titan War was only a couple of years ago. The Fates, maybe? But what part of Zoe looks like dark blonde hair?_

"I'm not going to hurt you, Zoe." I said soothingly, but when I got close, she kicked out at me. I backed off like I had all the time in the world. Which I did, until the next problem came up. Walking over to the kitchenette, I rifled through the cupboards, looking for some food. Bisquick turned up pretty quickly, so along with some eggs and oil, I made waffles. Carefully, I laid them as close to Zoe as possible without kicking.

"You're safe, Zoe. I'm not going to take your food away. It's yours." I spoke in the same calm, soothing voice, but got no response, "Fine. I'll be by the door if you need me."

I grabbed Ugly Two, who was still alive, and dragged them to the door with me. One there, I threw them out, "If you value your life, run away."

He did exactly that, stumbling and falling occasionally as the drink took its toll. Then, I grabbed Ugly Three's body and stuffed it in the closet. Once all that was done, I sat cross-legged in the threshold, keeping an eye and Zoe and the waffles by way of mirror on the walls. Now that I had a while to look at her, I could see bruises and cuts all over her body. Slowly, Zoe uncurled from her fetal position, went over to the waffles, then began tearing into them like she hadn't eaten for a week.

After she finished, she looked around uncertainly, and said, "Thou art watching me."

"I am, Zoe Nightshade." I replied. "You do not need to fear me. I can get you a home much better then this cesspit. It won't be without work, though, but I believe you will enjoy it."

"Thy associate spoke of the same before I was put here. Why should I trust thee?" Zoe asked, seeing the mirror, and me through it.

"Because if I was not here, you would still be a prisoner of those three." I said calmly, dropping the soothing part, "And I knew your parents.

_Wow, that struck a nerve. I can use that_. "What dost thou know of my parents?"

"I wouldn't be here if not for them, especially your father." I answered, keeping somewhat vague.

"Tell me!" Zoe demanded.

"Your mother was kind and gentle, your father powerful." I started. _Don't talk about Atlas. You can't lie about his personality this early. _"Sadly, they are both gone now."

Zoe nodded. _What? She doesn't look grieving. More like. . . longing . . . . . for what? _

_Oh, stupid. A home. After being moved from orphanage to foster home back to orphanage, she never fit in anywhere. No one's cared about her or for her. This could be good._

"I'm not lying about my promise of a home" I said reassuringly. "I think you'll be happy there. You'll fit in."

Zoe still looked at me with distrust, but she didn't look like she'd kick out anymore.

"You're hurt, Zoe. Will you let me help?" I asked. Zoe thought for a while, then nodded. Slowly, I walked around the corner, my fingers taking out a small bottle of nectar I always kept inside my coat, "Drink this. It _will_ help."

Zoe took a cautious sip, then downed the whole thing. Her cuts and bruises disappeared, and she looked down, amazed, "What filled thine bottle?"

"Nectar. This'll take a while to explain, so make yourself comfortable." I started, then Zoe sat down and nodded at me, "Have you heard of the Greek gods?"

Zoe nodded again, "Yes."

"They're real, tied to what they call "Western Civilization", an abstract concept you really don't need to know about, despite somehow being central to the god's survival." _Hmph, she's confused. I really shouldn't get into the "Western Civilization" stuff. _"That doesn't matter much. Mainly, the gods exist, and monsters do to."

"What monsters dost thou speak of?"

"Cyclops, giant cannibals, massive dogs, humans with two snakes for legs." I replied. Zoe looked disbelieving, so I continued, "What I gave you was called nectar. It's the drink of the gods, and that's how all your cuts and bruises disappeared. There's no mortal drug that can do that."

"So who are you?"

"I am what you'd call a demigod. A half-god, as one of my parents was mortal and the other immortal." I answered, "Each of us has powers relating to the domains of our parents. Mine is water. I can control and manipulate it, even summon it out of the air."

At this, Zoe raised an eyebrow, "I do not believe thee."

I shrugged, then summoned about a liter of it right in front of me, forming a ball, "Seeing is believing, right?"

"So why did thou come for me?" Zoe asked.

_How can I answer that? I need to build trust, not have her see herself as an objective of some kind._ "I came because, once I knew where you were, there was no other option. I knew your parents, after all, and I couldn't leave you in this place."

"Where is thy. . . . . home thou spoke of?" Zoe now looked like she trusted me. _Good. I need her to._

"The Underworld. It's actually quite nice once you get used to the fact that it's always a little dimmer then the surface. I've made some good friends there, and I'm sure they'll like you."

Now Zoe looked incredulous, "The Underworld? How do thee enter the world of the dead without dying thyself?"

"It's easy. I'll show you if you agree." I grinned, "Honestly, it's not that bad."

Zoe finally nodded, "I shall join thee."

My smile grew wider, "Do you have anything you want to take with you?"

Zoe snorted, "I do not wish to remember this. . . . . . atrocity of filth and degradation."

I laughed, "Just take my hand, and we'll be on our way."

Tentatively, she grabbed my hand, then I shadow-traveled to the Underworld. Or, at least, tried to. Instead, I dropped us in the middle of a gang of Laestrygonians. _Can't I just go home? Seriously, Minos?_

"Get back!" I yelled at Zoe, then summoned my axe and a two foot-long sword, both made of Stygian Iron. The Laestrygonians were as surprised as I was, which let me kill one before the others even got up. The next roared and swung a club, but I rolled under it and stabbed the monster in the stomach. _Two down, three to go_.

Two of them went after Zoe, the last one kicking at me. My sword flashed, chopping off one arm, then the other, and finally it's head. Zoe was backing up uncertainly from the Laestrygonians, but I was too far away. Snarling, I took my axe in both hands and threw it with all my strength. As luck would have it, the axe found one's shoulder, making it fall back. _Now what can I do?_

Zoe was still backing up as the Laestrygonian made a clumsy grab for her. _Riptide. Of course._ I took the pen and threw it to Zoe, it's cap already off. Zoe, somehow, caught it by the hilt and slashed wildly.

The Laestrygonian with my axe in hir shoulder growled and got up, but I ran forward and drove my sword through his chest. Zoe was still fending off the last monster. The Laestygonian's fist swung through the air, but Riptide came up, cutting it. They were about fifty meters away from me when Zoe ducked it's fist again, then with a sudden display of strength, chopped off it's head. _Atlas. The Titan of strength._

"Are you alright?" I asked, finally getting over to her.

"I am fine." Zoe was breathing heavily, but gestured to one of the piles of dust, "What were they?"

"Monsters." I replied, "Laestrygonians. They're the giant cannibals."

"And thou fights them with a sword?" Zoe asked, looking at Riptide.

"Yeah. They crumble to dust after you kill them, and we use swords because the bigger a physical injury you deal to them, the longer it takes them to re-form." Catching Zoe's look of confusion, I continued, "They can re-create themselves, but it takes years, decades, and sometimes centuries for the really rare ones. _Now_ maybe I can get us to the Underworld."

Zoe took my hand again, and to my relief, this time we appeared in my room.

"Thy room is very. . . . . dark." Zoe commented.

I face-palmed, "Yeah, it's in "night mode" right now, so I can sleep."

I put my hand near a panel on the wall, then slid it upward, raising the level of ambient light, "There we go."

"Why are all thou weapons black?" Zoe asked, inspecting the racks of various pointy things that lined my room.

"Most metals can't hurt or kill a monster, so we have godly metals. My weapons are made of Stygian Iron, a metal found around the River Styx. Very dangerous to mine, as you can die if you touch the waters. Your sword is made of Celestial Bronze, mined on Mount Olympus and a few other places. Also, there is Imperial Gold, which is consecrated in the Pantheon to gain it's effects. The last metal that can kill the monstrous is silver." I explained, "Plain old silver, but most of the time people take it through much the same process as Imperial Gold, to make it harder and able to take a keener edge."

"My sword?" Zoe turned to me, still holding Riptide, "I thought it was thine."

"It isn't. I'll tell you more on this later, but the sword is yours. Anaklusmos is it's name."

"Riptide." Zoe translated effortlessly, "The current which takes thee by surprise."

"Are the two of you done talking?" Jeanne was standing in the doorway, "The Judges wish to speak to you, Proctor."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"You have passed training, Proctor." A Judge announced. I was standing in front of the three of them. The Judging Pavilion was cold and empty save for the four of us. "Thus, you have earned the right to the Sword of Shadow. Turn and take up your weapon."

_Sword of Shadow?_ I turned to see a short marble pillar. On top of it rested a beautiful sword in a sheath of worked leather. The hilt was also leather, soft to the touch with bronze threads weaving down it the to pommel. The pommel itself was Stygian Iron in a diamond shape, with an onyx embedded in either side. I drew the sword to see a Stygian Iron blade a little longer then Riptide's, with inlaid Celestial Bronze curving up and down the blade.

Holding it in my right hand, I felt power rush through me and gasped. The Judges noticed this and spoke again, "Before, you could use the shadows and the darkness, influence and shape it. Now, with the Sword of Shadow, you _command_ it."

Darkness emanated from the blade, and I felt a strange tingling in my right palm. Shifting the sword to my left, I could see what looked like black ink filling a circle in my palm, with little hollow triangles pointing out from it. _An eclipse_.

"Return to your room. You will be instructed on the use of this blade, as well as it's history." The Judges ordered. I bowed to them and disappeared, reappearing in my own room.

I heard voices come from down the hall, so I headed in that direction until I saw a room marked "Zoe Nightshade, daughter of Atlas and Pleione."

Jeanne and Zoe were talking to each other inside as I knocked the door, "You may enter."

I opened the door, still holding the Sword of Shadow and it's sheath in my right hand. Jeanne looked over and smiled, "Congratulations, Proctor. You have completed my training."

"The Judges told me I could do a lot more with this then just the powers they gave me. You know how?" I asked.

"It is quite easy, in reality. Just think of what you wish the shadows to do, and will them into doing it." Jeanne replied. Frowning, I tried to make a sphere of darkness hover in the air. To my surprise, there was suddenly a black ball hovering in the room. _Nico's got nuthin' on this._

"I do not suppose I would be fortunate enough that my sword would have an effect such as thine?" Zoe questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't think so, Zoe. I've carried Anaklusmos for years and couldn't find anything like this in it." I replied, "Still, it's a good sword."

Jeanne, however, looked thoughtful, "Anaklusmos. I have heard that name before. What is it in English?"

"Riptide." Zoe and I answered simultaneously. _I guess being a French non-demigod means you don't know Greek._

Jeanne's face cleared, "Riptide. Of course. How do you summon it?"

I took the sword from Zoe and demonstrated, "Touch the cap to the end of the blade to make it shrink, then uncap it to extend the blade again."

Jeanne smiled, "But is there not another place you put the cap of a pen, that you do not lose it when writing?"

"Well, yeah, the back," I started, "but it's a hilt now."

"Give it back to Zoe." Jeanne ordered, and I did so, "Now, take the cap and touch it to the hilt of the sword."

Zoe did as she was told, then the sword shimmered and changed, becoming silver with Imperial Gold inlays in the same pattern as the Celestial Bronze on mine. The hilt was leather, dyed silver, and had a silver, diamond shaped pommel with blue sapphires embedded on either side.

"You are holding the Sword of Water." Jeanne said, "It has always been called Riptide through the centuries, after the Hesperiede Zoe gave it to Hercules. She was not lying when she said the blade was imbued with the power of the sea. That Hesperiede never knew the true power of the blade, else she would never have given it up as in the wrong hands, either of these blades can- and _has_\- wrought great destruction."

Zoe gasped and passed the sword to her left hand. On her palm was what looked like three swirls connected together in the center. _A celtic rune, for water I'm guessing. _Suddenly, a cold gust of wind that shouldn't be underground swept through the chambers, and a tall man wearing chain mail with a red cloak around his shoulders took form. _A spirit. After seeing Nico summon them, I'd know one anywhere. But I didn't summon one. Who did?_

"That blade was the quest of all my years of living." The man said, looking at the blade, "Excalibur fell into my hands, but is not a wholesome blade, nor was Drynwyn. Even the legendary Sword of Shadow was attracted to me, when it was broken. I made a dagger of the shattered blade, named it Carnwennan and used it to put an end to Orddu. But Riptide, or Anaklusmos, was the one I sought."

"Who are you?" I demanded.

Jeanne was the one to answer, "King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. The only man in history to have had possession of more than one of the swords at one time. He had three: Light, Fire, and Shadow, before Sasha retrieved Shadow and Mordred stole Fire."

"Indeed. Now, after death, I have become the watcher of the blades, just as Achilles is the watcher of the Styx." the King looked at us with sorrow, "Those blades brought ruin to my life, and so I must warn to fear and be wary of those who wield Fire and Light. Those Swords are corrupt. Water and Shadow are less so, but you must ensure _you_ are wielding the blade, and that the blade is not wielding _you_."

Another gust, and King Arthur was gone. I turned to Jeanne, "Sounds like you've met him before."

"All who wielded a Sword have. At one time, King Arthur fought the Proctor. Arthur wielded Light, which he named Excalibur, though it had many names before. The Proctor wielded Shadow, the blade which you know hold." Jeanne paused, then continued, "King Arthur triumphed, killing the Proctor and shattering Shadow. Arthur took the shattered pieces to Camelot and fashioned of them a dagger, which he called Carnwennan. The Sword of Shadow was incomplete, and thus did not gift Arthur with the full power of the shadows. Yet it's limited form was enough for Arthur to become shrouded in shadow to kill the demigoddess Orddu, daughter of Orwen. Soon after, Sasha retrieved the blade, and reforged it back into the original state of the Sword."

"Just how many of these are there?" I asked. "And who is Sasha?

"Four." Jeanne replied, "The Sword of Light, of Shadow, of Fire, and of Water. All, excepting Shadow, had important histories, which I never bothered to pay attention to or remember. As for Sasha, you shall meet her soon."

"Why does thy Sword have no history behind it?" Zoe asked, her brow furrowed.

"It has been wielded by the Proctors for a very, very long time." Jeanne replied, "Thus, the history of the Sword is shrouded in shadow. Zoe Nightshade, you are the daughter of a sea nymph and a Titan. Usually, the fruit of such a relationship would be an immortal, or a Cyclops. You are neither. From your father Atlas, you are strong. From your mother Pleione, you can manipulate water. While holding that Sword, your powers are increased to the point that you must be careful when summoning it. The sea does not like to be restrained, and that is exactly what you will be doing."

"Are thou able to teach me the skills necessary?" Zoe asked Jeanne, "You have taught Proctor."

_Taught Proctor? Oh. She thinks my name's Proctor. _I laughed, "Zoe, my name's not Proctor. Proctor is a. . . . job description."

"Then what would thine name be?"

I looked a question at Jeanne, who nodded and said, "I will not tell the Judges, but do not make a habit of it. Your identity is kept secret for very good reasons."

I turned back to Zoe, "My name is Perseus Jackson. Call me Percy."

"Your training is finished, Proctor, but you still must master Shadow." Jeanne said, looking at me, "And you, Zoe, must learn to fight as well as use Water. Sleep now, and come to training when you wake."

"The training room's just down the hall." I told Zoe, "It's marked."

With that, I turned away and headed back to my own room, turning it back into night mode and crawling under the covers. My mind was whirling with questions as I vainly tried to sleep. _How is Zoe so old? She should only be two or three. How is King Arthur bound to the Swords? Why did the Judges send me, with Riptide, to give it back to Zoe and recruit her? They obviously knew it was the Sword of Water. Jeanne never said anything about any Proctor having a partner, so why _did_ they send me? And who the frak is Sasha?_

Over an hour later, and after much tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I woke up the next morning at around five o' clock, which was about typical for me, then headed down to the training area. _So, let's see what this Sword can do._ Drawing Shadow, I tried gathering a shadows around the blade, and instantly, there was a black covering around it, like another sheath.

_What else can this thing do? Wait a second. If there's a shadow everywhere I want one. . . . _I disappeared, shadow-traveling about two feet above my head, where there shouldn't have been a shadow.

"I see you have already learned one trick of that blade." Jeanne commented, having also woken up and walked in. "Now, with Shadow, you can shadow-travel more precisely. For instance, you are able to travel right behind your enemy in a fight. Beware, though, as shadow-traveling that much in a short amount of time is exhausting. Try it."

Jeanne lunged at me with her longsword. I parried, then fell back into a shadow I created behind myself, re-appearing a few meters behind and to the left Jeanne, who turned to face me again, "Good, but you were off-target. Again."

This time, I lunged at her and slammed my sword down, pushing her back a step, then stepped out of the shadows at her back. Jeanne dropped and spun, kicking my legs out from under me as she did. I sank into the ground and lunged at her again from her right. Jeanne smashed Shadow aside with her longsword and I traveled again. Now I was panting from using my powers so much in such a short time, but I wasn't out yet. I charged her yet again, blocking a thrust and disappeared, re-appearing in the exact place I traveled _from_. Jeanne, already spinning to face me if I had gone behind her, had her back to me.

"Yield?" I asked, pressing Shadow to her back.

Jeanne, though, disappeared, and I felt her blade on the back of my neck, "You would do well to remember I once held Shadow, and still wield the power of a Proctor without it. Now our sparring matches have entered a new level of complexity. Again."

I growled and turned to face her, Shadow up and ready. Then I switched Shadow to my left hand, summoned my axe, and slowly started walking towards her. Jeanne smiled, holding her longsword at the ready. My axe came down, but she wasn't there. I spun, Shadow arcing up at Jeanne, who was behind me. Jeanne blocked it, grabbed the haft of my axe and jerked. Letting go of the weapon so I wouldn't be pulled forward, I punched Jeanne's wrist, where there wasn't armor. Jeanne's hand unclenched from around the hilt of her sword, making it fall.

Jeanne jumped backwards, and I grabbed her sword off the floor before she could summon it back to her hand. _How can I use this thing with one hand? Even Jeanne doesn't use it with one hand for more than a few seconds._

Jeanne smiled, and my axe appeared in her hands. I backed up as she stepped forward, running through options in my head. Jeanne's weapon whipped down at me, and I automatically caught the haft on my longsword, then realized what was about to happen. I dropped the longsword just as Jeanne jerked downwards, which would've wrenched it from my hand anyways. Instead, I body-slammed her, which hurt like hell. _She _is_ in armor, after all_.

My fist met her jaw with a meaty smack, but Jeanne just grinned and grabbed the collar of my leather jacket, flipping us so that she was on top. The last thing I saw was her gauntleted fist flying through the air.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Proctor? Proctor!" Jeanne was lightly rapping on my head, waking me up, "Good. I feared I had lost you for a few moments. I believe I also broke your jaw, but that was healed with the end of the sparring match."

I groaned, "Didn't get me up, though."

"True." Jeanne acknowledged, "Ready?"

I got to my feet and unsummoned the axe before bringing Shadow up, "I suppose."

"Can I join?" We both turned to see Zoe in the doorway, wearing a silver shirt and black jeans. In her hands was Riptide, bronze and not in it's Sword-of-Water form.

"Trying teaching her, Proctor." Jeanne said, and stepped back.

"Ok. You have a sword made in the Greek style. Those swords are better for slashing rather than stabbing." I started, "But when you see an opening, stabbing is still an effective strategy."

Without warning, my sword arced down at her in a very light blow. Immediately, Riptide came up and blocked, "Good. What do you think you do next?"

Zoe mimed tilting her blade so that Shadow would slide away from her body, then slashing at me. "Very good. What else can you do?"

Zoe shrugged, "I do not know, but am I correct in assuming thou shall show me?"

"Yep." I replied, "You have one hand on the hilt of your sword, but the other is free. Try hitting me."

Zoe's punch was pretty weak, but I could tell she wasn't putting her weight into the punch. "You know what to do, so let's start doing it."

We kept sparring, both of us holding back strength from the blows. _After all, how can you learn if you just get beaten to the ground every time you try?_

Occasionally, Jeanne would step in to correct Zoe's posture, and once, mine. Soon though, Zoe was exhausted. _Not used to swinging a sword? That'll change pretty quickly._

"Why don't you take a breather, Zoe?" I suggested, knowing the Zoe from her last life wouldn't stop until she couldn't move, "It'll let you watch Jeanne and I spar."

Zoe looked at me for a minute, most likely wondering why I was asking, and shook her head. I sighed, then we began sparring again. By the time we stopped, Zoe could barely bring her sword up.

"Zoe, sit back and rest." I said, gently but firmly, "You won't do any good in sparring matches if you can barely hold Riptide."

Finally, Zoe nodded and turned Riptide back into a pen, then slipped it in her pocket. I turned to Jeanne, who already had her longsword out, "Powers or no?"

"No powers." I decided, "I'm guessing we have a long day ahead of us. Why'd you ask?"

"I would have made the same decision, Proctor, but now you have completed your training. You and I are equals, not mentor and trainee. I was testing you to see if you could both make the right decision, mirror my thoughts." Jeanne smiled, "Are you ready?"

I nodded, then we started circling. Neither of us wanted to attack, so we were pacing until one of us saw an opportunity. _Unless I make one_. I pretended to stumble, using the movement to cover my leg moving back to brace against the overhead chop I knew she'd try.

Sure enough, her longsword came down, but I was already braced and brought the longsword to a dead halt. Tilted Shadow the the longsword slid away from me, I brought Shadow up, then down heavily on the shoulder of her armor. _The pauldron?_ It dented under the blow, no doubt making a huge bruise underneath.

I pressed the attack, striking again and again. Jeanne's longsword blocked each one after the first with ease. Finally, Shadow slid down to her crossguard as our swords locked. Jeanne shoved me back, and she was on the offensive, pushing me back with a flurry of blows. I managed to get Shadow between the flashing longsword and my body for most of the strikes, but one got through and caught me up on the arm. It wasn't a fight-changing blow, but it would become annoying the longer the match lasted.

I was looking for an opening in Jeanne's endless barrage of blows, but couldn't find one. A couple of nicks and near-misses later, I tossed Shadow at her. The longsword came up and knocked it away, but I was right after it and slammed into her. _Ha! Armor's heavy, but once you get it to start falling, nothing can stop it._

I stiffened the fingers of my left hand and stabbed it into Jeanne's right wrist, while slamming her left into the ground. Both hands unclenched, dropping the longsword. A metal-plated fist buried itself in my stomach, but I ignored it, grabbing her left arm and twisted it until it was right on the verge of breaking. _Damn. If I break it, Zoe'll think we'd do that to her._

Instead, I used one hand to keep in in a hold that meant any movement brought painful twisting. My left hand moved just in time to deflect Jeanne's right fist with my vambrance. Then, she did practically the first thing she taught me: Her forehead smashed into my nose, giving her the opportunity to wrench her left hand from the hold I had it in and bring both hands around my throat. _Which would allow for an easy snap._ "Do you yield?"

"I yield." I replied reluctantly. Jeanne's hands released my throat, and I swung off her, rubbing my neck.

"This match is over." Jeanne said, "And now, as a true Proctor, you can end the sparring match as well."

My cuts and bruises disappeared, along with the damage to my clothes, leaving them good-as-new.

"Zoe, are you rested and recovered?" Jeanne asked. Zoe nodded, looking impassive despite the display of swordsmanship she had just seen. "Good. Draw Riptide in the true form of the blade. Proctor, keep Shadow at the ready."

The two of us, Zoe and I, stood next to each other in front of Jeanne. She, after correcting Zoe's hold on Water, started speaking, "I do not have experience with the Sword of Water, as you know. However, I would imagine that the way the Swords of Water and Shadow are used are very similar. Both of you, create a hovering sphere of darkness or water."

After concentrating for a second, the ball appeared at the end of my blade. Zoe managed to summon her own a bit quicker. _Makes sense. She was the daughter of a sea nymph to begin with. Even without the Sword, she could probably manipulate water._

"Good. Now move that sphere in a circle." Jeanne ordered. Zoe was, again, faster than me, but not by too much, "Very good. Now, form it into a point."

_A point?_ Nevertheless, I narrowed the ball until it formed into a cone.

"Touch it. What do you notice?" Jeanne asked. I stepped forward and felt it. Surprisingly, the darkness was solid, and the point was sharp. Zoe, on the other hand, just moved the water closer to herself and did the same thing.

"It's actually solid. And sharp." I answered, and Zoe nodded.

"Indeed. You can make any shape out of your respective powers, which gives you a colossal amount of versatility and options." Jeanne said, "However, _solid_ does not mean _unbreakable_. A strong enough blow can still break what you summon. Generally, the stronger you are at the time you summoned the substance, the more force is needed to break it."

I nodded, "Can you attack me? I want to try something."

Jeanne nodded, then swung around her longsword. The first strike came in at my left, but I formed a rectangle of shadow right in the way of the blade, and it bounced off. Next, Jeanne tried a stab, which I tried to block in the same way. Jeanne's longsword, however, broke through the shadows and made me jump away. "Thanks."

"That is not all you can do, Proctor." Jeanne said, "In darkness, in dim light, you can become very hard to spot. Not invisible, but an uncaring gaze will sweep over you without hesitation.

We spent the rest of the day practicing with our abilities and just regular swordplay. _After all, Zoe won't be needing military theory, but she'd better know how to fight if she gets sent on a mission._

* * *

**Time Skip: One Week**

**Percy's POV**

Now both Zoe _and_ I were standing in front of the Judges, or, at least, one of them. It's hands touched my temples, and as always, I got information on a new target while the old info was sucked away. Then, the Judge disappeared. _Let's see . . . . . . Oliver Johnson. . . . . . . . lives in Camp Half-Blood. . . . . . . stealing, distributing drugs at his school. Wait. Lives in Camp? A demigod? First time for everything, I suppose._

I shadow-traveled Zoe and I to Camp Half-Blood, where our target waited. _A son of Hermes would probably be . . . . sword-fighting or Pegasus-riding, this time of day._

"What is thy task?" Zoe whispered in my ear. Over the week, she had learned to fight with a sword pretty well under Jeanne's and my tutelage. Not as good as someone who had been working at it for years, but good enough to hold her own.

"I need to kill an Oliver Johnson." I replied.

"Kill? Is there not another, less permanent punishment?" Zoe asked, keeping her voice emotionless.

"Not when it comes to the Judges. He, apparently, has stolen cars, money, and sells drugs at the school he goes to in the winter." I turned and looked at her, "It's a big step to kill someone in cold blood. But that step is so easy to take, it's frightening. I need to know this now: Would you kill if I asked you to?"

Zoe looked troubled, and shook her head, "I do not believe I could."

"You can. It's a simple as thrusting your sword, Riptide, into their body." A while ago, Zoe decided to call Riptide, when in "Sword of Water" form, Water. Just like I called the Sword of Shadow by it's namesake, Shadow. "But you won't. That's not a bad thing, but remember: You _can_ still kill, physically, even if you don't think you can."

I shadow-traveled the two of us into the forest in Camp, then spotted a flight of Pegasi going over our hiding place. On the one just to the right of the lead, was a young man with hair greased back. _Oliver._

Together, Zoe and I ghosted out of the woods and behind a cabin, in shadow. A few demigods walked by, but none of them noticed us. _You're right, Jeanne, as always. They didn't see us._

The Pegasi were swinging around for another pass, so I summoned a throwing knife, waited, and threw. It missed, off-target by at least a meter. No one noticed though, so I returned it to my hand and cast again. This time, the knife hit Oliver's leg, making him fall off the Pegasus and into the ground with a sickening _crunch_. My job was done.

Zoe was mainly as an observer, so I took her hand and brought us both down to the Judging Pavilion.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"How did your mission go?" Jeanne asked Zoe and I.

"He's dead, so it was successful." I answered, "I killed him, not Zoe."

"Ah." Jeanne nodded, and turned to Zoe, "You need not be afraid of death, Zoe. But neither should you become fond of it. It will be necessary for you to take that step, and you must be prepared for it when it happens. Instead of fixating on the lack of life, think of the good that will become of it."

"Well, you say it way better then I do." I told Jeanne, who let out a small laugh.

"Perhaps I do. But Zoe, we are not forcing you to kill, merely telling you that it is not forbidden and sometimes necessary."

* * *

**A/N: So, the Fates obviously have a hand in Percy's life, as well as the Judges. But what is Percy's destiny, and why did the Fates save him? Hopefully, I can start complicating the plot soon.**

**Remember, reviews, favorites, and follows are what sustain me. You don't do any of that, and I might die.**


	4. Chapter 3- Sasha the Serpent

**A/N: I think I'll stick with this story for the next week.**

**Edit: I removed the Declan/Sword of Light scene from this chapter and put it in chapter one for reasons I also put it chapter one. It shouldn't really matter.**

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text

Chapter 3- Sasha the Serpent

* * *

**Time Skip: Three days.**

**Percy's POV**

In the days since that first mission, Zoe figured out she _was _the Hesperide, which lead to some awkward explaining. But in the end, she believed me and I didn't have to tell her anything more about her past. _Good thing, too. If the Hunters recruited her, she might be my next target. Zoe's more powerful then she thinks._

"Proctor, you must be alone for this mission." The Judge intoned. Zoe nodded and stepped back while skeletal hands clutched at my temples. Images and words raced through my head, showing me something massive, green, and scaled. _What is Hades is that?_

There wasn't a name for that creature, but it was dangerous. Very dangerous. I got a location, too, but nothing more. _I usually get more then that. Maybe any history. . . nope. Just images and a location._

Bowing to the Judge -I didn't bother looking for the little clues that told me which of the three it was- I stepped backwards into the shadow, reappearing in Maine. _At least, I think it's Maine. I'm in the right place. Maybe._

I was standing in front of a metal-barred door, with steps leading into darkness below. It wasn't really a building, just the doorway and the steps, with a stone roof and walls. But that wasn't what scared me. What did was a delta carved into the door. Which meant either this was an entrance to the Labyrinth -which, according to Piper, _does_ still exist- or another one of Daedulus' creations. _Please tell me it's the latter._

After placing my hand on the delta, the symbol glowed and the door swung open. Inside, it was pure, unadulterated darkness. I stepped down, immediately comforted as I felt the power of the shadows all around me. Here, I felt invincible. It was like being in the ocean, but so much. . . . . _better_.

_Is it enough to kill that giant snake? Maybe. Maybe not._ All I had of that snake was an image, so I really don't know just how big it it.

Now, walking through the corridors I found myself in, I could see in the dark. Everything just looked dim here, but I knew it should be completely black to another set of eyes.

"Who isss thisss?" A voice seemed to fill the hallway, "You sssmell like the sssea, godling."

I spun in place, trying to find the source of the female voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere at once. My axe was clutched in my right hand, Shadow hanging from my waist. I could feel exactly where the entrance to this apparent maze was, as it was the only place not shrouded in shadow. Hearing a scraping sound behind me, I spun, but there was nothing there. Completely empty, and completely silent once again.

Something smashed into my back, sending me flying into a bigger room. The axe flew out of my hand as I smacked into a wall. Climbing to my feet and turning, I saw a huge snake. Like, bigger-than-a-drakon big. It's gigantic head reared up, ready to plunge down and probably kill me.

Thinking quickly, I drew Shadow and gathered the shadows into a massive wall in front of me. I only meant to create a shield, but down here? I was _so_ much more powerful.

Something slammed into the wall, breaking through it, but the massive serpent's eyes focused on my hand, and she -judging by it's voice, it was a she- turned so that she wouldn't kill me.

Suddenly, the snake's form shimmered, then disappeared, and in it's place was a young women about my age. She was beautiful, with raven hair, and her eyes were deep emerald. She, whoever she was, wore a skirt the same color her scales were. From her ears dangled silver snake-shaped earings that had emeralds as eyes.

To my surprise, she ran forward and hugged me tightly, "I was wondering when my Master would return."

_Master? What?_ "What do you mean, Master?"

"You carry Shadow, Master." She, whoever she was, released me but kept close. _Very_ close. "I will eagerly follow your commands, whatever they may be."

_What's with these frakkin' Swords? _"How am _I_ your Master?"

"Whoever is the owner of Shadow is my Master." She replied, "I was originally trapped in this prison before I fled and joined a man named Artur Drakon. I admired him, and he carried Shadow. Artur grew older, too weak to fight with that Sword, so he asked me to follow that blade, make sure that whoever carries it is worthy, and serve them, Master."

"So, how do I prove my worth?" I asked. When she spoke, she held any S a little longer then normal, giving her speech a, well, _snake-y_ sound."

"Oh, it's easy, Master." She almost purred, linking her arm in mine, "Come with me."

_This can't be good_. "Who and what exactly are you?"

"I am Sasha, sister of Python, Master. Which is why I was imprisoned here in the first place." Sasha scowled at the walls, "The gods kept me here simply because I was the sister of an enemy of their's, Master."

"I've seen that before." I replied, my mind going to Calypso, who the gods _still_ haven't released, "I'm glad Artur was, whoever he was, able to help."

Sasha navigated the labyrinth -hopefully not _the_ Labyrinth- until we came to a door. Sasha hissed something, and it opened.

Inside was a ring on a small, marble pillar. Sasha picked it up and slid it on my finger. It was a snake -that looked a lot like Sasha- bitting it's own tail, creating a circle. Immediately, it tightened around my finger, until I was sure my bone was being crushed. It was on the verge of breaking when suddenly, the ring loosened to fit my finger perfectly.

"You are worthy, Master." Sasha said, "The ring will stay on your finger until you die, then it will return here."

"How old are you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, "You talk like it's happened a lot before."

Sasha's laugh was as beautiful as she was, "It has, Master, many, many times before. I am millennia old, Proctor, and have seen civilizations rise and fall. That ring is an ouroboros, a symbol of repetition, of cycles. Eventually, you will die, Master, and the ring and I will return here for the next Proctor."

"How many Proctors have you served?"

"Many. Dozens at least, Master." Sasha smiled, "Although I _do_ prefer male ones like you, Master."

I sighed, "About that, Sasha. I am a Proctor. I can't afford to fall in love."

"Many have said that before you, Proctor." Sasha replied, "You will see. Being a Proctor weighs on one's conscience, grinds on one's soul. You will need comfort, Master. And I do not want you to listen to the wrong kinds."

I shook my head, "You call yourself my servant. If you would always bend to my will, what would you be? A puppet? I can't love a puppet, Sasha."

Sasha looked insulted, "I am no _puppet_, Master. Or should I call you Percy?"

I stopped, shocked, "How-"

"I visit the surface occasionally, learn current history and doings, Master." Sasha's deep green eyes met my own, "I do not love someone because I am forced to. I have heard of your actions, and observed you many times. You are someone I admire."

"I still can't love you, Sasha." I shook my head, "My heart belongs to another, and my soul to the Judges. What's left?"

"Your brain, Master." Sasha replied, "And your body. But I do not believe someone already claims your heart, Master. Once you are reborn, you cannot love before you take that ring. Your past life is the past."

"My past life is why I became a Proctor, Sasha." I sighed, "I can't turn my back on it."

"I'm your servant, Proctor." Sasha's eyes had a kind of gleam in her eyes that I didn't recognize, "Call my your snake, Master."

"Why would I call you something like that?"

"Tradition? Because I enjoy it? Does it matter, Master?" Sasha nodded to the ring, "That ring binds me to you, as I've said already. Master, I am always _yours_."

Something about that was very appealing to the more _male_ parts of me, but I forced it down, "Fine. But only when we're alone."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"If your Judges stay true to form, you're supposed to take me to the Underworld, Master." Sasha said. We were still in her "lair", as she called it.

"Okay. Any particular reason I was sent to get you now, versus before now or after?" I asked.

"Not that I know of, Master. The Judges have their own reasons." Sasha shrugged, "Shall we leave, or would you like me to show you around my lair?"

"We'll leave, my little snake." Sasha hissed appreciatively when I called her that, then we disappeared.

We reappeared in the training room, where Jeanne was sparing Zoe. After they noticed us, Zoe moved faster than I had ever seen her before, drawing a knife from her waist, and lunging at Sasha. Before I could even say anything, a few blurs of motion resulted in Sasha catching Zoe's hunting knife on a knife of her own. Both of their free hands were struggling against each other off to the side.

"Zoe, she's a friend. Sasha, Zoe won't hurt me." At my words, Sasha's hand twisted, disarming Zoe, and Sasha stepped back.

"Sasha!" Jeanne ran forward and hugged her, "It has been too long."

"Indeed, Proctor." Sasha hugged Jeanne back. They spoke rapidly in French while I filled Zoe in.

Zoe didn't look happy, "She is a monster."

"And she's a friend, Zoe." I replied, knowing I had to make a point, "You're a demi-Titan. Should I kill you because of that?"

Zoe scowled, "Fine. But I will be watching thy new friend."

I sighed, knowing Zoe wouldn't let this go easily.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"This will be a different kind of mission." All three Judges were present, with Zoe, Sasha, and I standing in front of them. "Step forward, Zoe Nightshade."

Zoe walked up until she was a few feet away from the Judges, then gasped as a pair of hands clamped onto her skull, imparting the memories and information she needed. When the pair of hands let her go, I could see she was shocked.

"Sasha, step forward." A Judge intoned. Sasha looked at me, and I nodded. Then, and only then, she stepped forward. When the hands released her, there was a briefest flash of surprise, then her features smoothed over again.

"Proctor, step forward." I did as they asked, then another pair of hands touched my head. _Whoa. Okay, this'll be different._

Grabbing Sasha's and Zoe's arms, I brought us all back to the training room, where Jeanne was waiting.

_First things first, I guess_. "Zoe? Can you do what they asked?"

The Judges had ordered Zoe to join Camp Half-Blood as a daughter of Hebe. The children of the goddess of youth didn't really have any powers, so it would be easy for Zoe to fit in. Sasha and I were supposed to access the Proctor "family's" bank account on Olympus. From the memories of the previous Proctors, I knew I had an account, but I didn't know why or how. Jeanne never really went over it.

Once Sasha and I had done some business up there, we were to also join Camp Half-Blood. Like Zoe, I was going to be found by a Satyr, while Sasha was going to be introduced to the camp by a man in a leather jacket, a.k.a, me.

Zoe nodded, so I spoke again, "The Campers are going to say some things about me. They will call me a traitor, a murderer, and who knows what else. But I swear, Zoe, on the River Styx, that I am innocent. Should the Hunt be there, try to stay away from them and don't get recruited."

Zoe filed that away, then held out her arm. I took it, and shadow-traveled us both to a middle school I had gotten kicked out of a few years ago. Zoe was thirteen -five years younger than I was- so if I just "convinced" the Dean and a few others, she'd get in. If I remembered correctly, I had asked Grover to post a Satyr here, and he had agreed

We were outside the Dean's office, waiting. A little bit of Misting convinced the people in front of us to let us pass, and after a few minutes, the door opened and a skinhead walked out.

"Next!" The Dean called. She about fifty years old, and a very nice lady.

Zoe strode in confidently, and I was right behind her.

"And who would you be?"

"This is Zoe Nisha, a new student joining you school for senior year." I snapped my fingers, manipulating the Mist, "She already passed the entrance exam, and you're helping her arrange a schedule."

Her eyes glazed for a bit, and she nodded. A year ago, I would've felt guilty about doing this, but now I wasn't. At the same time, I felt no desire to see Paul or even my mother. They were the past, and this is now.

"I leave you in the Dean's capable hands, Zoe." I said, "You know what you need to do if you get into trouble."

Zoe nodded, reaching into a pocket and showing me a familiar ballpoint pen. I nodded back, and disappeared, reappearing back in the training room where Sasha and Jeanne were sparring.

As soon as they saw me, Sasha glanced me up and down, seeing that I was fine. Zoe and Sasha, while they _could_ work together, they didn't like and didn't trust each other. Both of them were waiting for the other to betray me, while I knew neither of them would do anything against me.

"Ready for part two?" I asked. Sasha nodded, and I used the shadows to get us both inside of the Empire State Building. After winking slyly at me and linking our arms, Sasha led me to the reception desk.

The bald security guard, bored as always, didn't even glance up from his book, "No commercial entry today. The Tower's closed."

Sasha hissed, and the guard nearly jumped in his seat, shocked at the sound. He spun, then his eyes focused in three places: The young women next to me, the sword hanging at my waist, and the ring on my right hand. The guard turned pale as he passed the card over, "I am very sorry, sir. I didn't recognize you."

"Good." I replied, knowing the guard wouldn't say a word about a young man in a leather jacket with his hood pulled up.

After the elevator doors closed and the keycard was accepted, I turned to Sasha, "Explain, my serpent."

Another odd thing about Sasha is that she liked being ordered around. So, instead of asking, I demand. _Which doesn't really seem like something the Perseus I used to be would do._

"He recognized me, your sword, and your ring, which all signify you as the current Proctor, Master." Sasha bared her teeth and her fangs showed. That tends to happen when she wants it to, "In the last dozen millennia, the Proctors, the Judges, and I have all built up some pretty nasty stuff on Zeus and the other Olympians. Zeus generally tries to discredit Proctors as he finds them, tries to limit their power or discreetly kill them, but we've been pretty successful at dodging his actions."

I nodded, but motioned for Sasha to tell me more, "Other than the Olympians, Master, only a select few know who a Proctor is, what he or she does, and what he or she owns. Your manager, for instance, but not the bank that holds your money. Zeus doesn't know about any of your. . . . . assets on Mt. Olympus, Master, and for a good reason."

_Assets? And who's this manager?_ I started to ask, but Sasha put a finger to my lips, "Don't ask here, Master."

The elevator dinged as we reached the six-hundreth floor, and we stepped outside. Previously, I had really only been to the throne room of the Olympians, but there was much_, much_ more to Mt. Olympus. It was a metropolis, really, floating above New York City.

Sasha started leading me off, and I no idea where.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Here we are, Master." Sasha purred after a long time leading me through the city.

We were in front of a large, classical looking building that was at a Y intersection. No one had given us any strange looks as we passed through the streets, and it was easy to see why: Everyone here looked different then mortals. Everything was a mix of Greek, Roman, and modern American styles. Chintons were worn side-by-side with skirts. Roman togas next to modern suits and sports jackets. Bronze and gold breastplate-wearing people chatted with people wearing cotton or leather.

We entered the building to see a row of ATMs right next to a row of bank tellers. Sasha moved to one of the few open ones and rapped lightly on the wood counter. The male teller came to attention quickly and turned, "How may I help you?"

"My Master wishes to access the Proctor family's account. He is Dominic Proctor, heir to the Proctor accounts, holdings, and assets." Sasha said formally.

"Of course. Allow me to verify his identity." The teller turned to my, "Mr. Proctor, do you have the identification number of the Proctor account, as well as the key to those accounts?"

"Of course. The number is five-seven-three-nine-five-six-two-eight." I replied, reciting the number Jeanne had drilled into me, saying if anyone asked for number on Proctor-related business, that was the number. I also felt something poking my hand, which I grabbed and set on the desk.

It was an old-fashioned key, but a complex one. The teller inspected it carefully before nodding in satisfaction. "Very good, Mr. Proctor. Would you also like to meet with the manager of the Proctor assets?"

Sasha stepped back in, "Yes, my Master does. We will see him outside the storage facilities."

"Very good, ma'am." The teller didn't seem to mind that Sasha was handling business, "Will there be anything else?"

"I would just like to remind you that you haven't had any clients for the past few hours." Sasha reached into her pocket and deposited a short stack of drachmas on the counter. "You never saw us."

The teller nodded, sweeping the drachmas under the counter while Sasha and I turned, walking away.

"Bribery, much?" I asked, "Another way you keep Zeus' gaze away?"

"The best brothels are very expensive, even for the King of the Gods." Sasha bared her fangs again, "Blackmail and bribery work every time, Master."

Over the past year, I had discovered that I didn't really have any moral inhibitions anymore, probably as a by-product of the rebirth or the Judges giving me memories. I didn't especially mind, as it had come in handy. Many of my missions would've failed if I cared about my target's lives or any "collateral damage" that might be suffered.

Sasha had, once again, taken the lead, and we eventually passed out of the main city and entered an area that seemed to be full of old warehouses. I could barely see the throneroom, which -in typical godly fashion- was in the center on the city, at the peak of the mountain.

"Explain." I ordered.

"This is where past Proctors have stored non-monetary assets, ones that they didn't especially mind losing if worst came to worst. All that is inside is yours, Master."

"Hmm. Key?" Sasha gave me the same key she had shown the teller, and I stuck it in the lock.

"Wait, Master." I immediately froze, "Turn the key left first, then right."

_Okay. Did she just tell me so we wouldn't waste time, or is there a more painful reason?_ With a slight groan, then warehouse opened, displaying the most odd collection of item I had ever seen. An old Model T Ford -in mint condition- sat in the center, being flanked by a ninteen forty-five Cadillac and an M twenty-six Pershing, a tank from World War Two. One wall was covered in weapons, several racks stacked on top of each other, going over a hundred feet from one end of the warehouse to the other. _I could gear up an army with that many weapons._

"So all this is mine?" I asked, almost not believing it.

"Yes, Master, along with three other warehouses." Sasha replied, then there was a knock on the warehouse door.

Sasha and I walked over to the door, Sasha looking through a little peephole in the door.

"It's your manager, Master."

I nodded and opened the door to see a man dressed in a smart black suit. Before he walked in, though, something exploded right in front of me.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I was thrown backwards, slamming into the Pershing before seeing what exploded into existence at the door. It was a statue of a man, but with no arms and only from the waist up. _Come on, _Terminus_? Why does _he_ have to be here?_

"No entry to holdings without expressed verbal or written permission from the current owner of the holdings!" Terminus said disapprovingly.

"I, Dominic Proctor, allow-" Sasha mouthed his name to me, "- James Knutler into my holdings today. And what're you doing here, Terminus?"

"I was promoted to guarding the Throneroom of the Olympians, but I do security here as well." Terminus replied, his voice just as annoying. Then, his statue disappeared and James Knutler walked in.

"Mr. Proctor, I am the manager of the money in your bank account. As Sasha appears to have told you my name already, shall we get down to buisness?" He had a smooth, tenor voice.

"Of course." I motioned to a long table which was surrounded by more than two dozen chairs. We sat on one end, Mr. Knutler opening the briefcase he brought in, which revealed a slim computer.

"This is the current balance of your account, Mr. Proctor, in drachmas, with alternative currency value listed to the side." Mr. Knutler swivled the screen. I counted nineteen digits in drachmas, and about twice that much converted to dollars. In other words: An insane amount of money._ So I'm rich now?_

"Very good work, Mr. Knutler." It took all my will power to remain calm, despite knowing how much money I now had.

"Thank you, Mr. Proctor. I have enjoyed prosperous relationships with Proctors going back for several hundred years, and I wish for this relationship to continue." Mr. Knutler bowed his head, then spoke again, "This your levels of current stocks in various companies, both mortal and non-mortal."

My eyes scanned the list, see familiar names and many more names I didn't recognize. One of them caught my attention, though, "Stand by to sell all the shares in General Mills."

Mr. Knutler nodded, "Is the CEO about to suffer an unfortunate and fatal accident?"

"I'm afraid so. But not for a year at least, and I'd hate to lose money before then. Wait for my message." I replied, assuming that Mr. Knutler knew what I did as the current Proctor. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Mr. Knutler manipulated his computer a little, then turned it, "These are the long-term projects you have invested in. They are all progressing with little difficulty, and you should start receiving money in three years from them. Which brings us to the most important part."

Now there was a list of names, all having a different color, "Those are the believed monetary status of the Olympians and other powerful gods."

Zeus was bankrupt, Poseidon a bit better. Hades was rolling in the dough, thanks to being the Lord of Riches, but he was Hades. There was plenty of material to blackmail him with. The other gods were between the first three. Ares and Apollo's wallets were a bit thin, meaning next to bankrupt, which would be very useful. Artemis had exactly no money, but I didn't think it was from squandering it.

"Thank you. You've done an splendid job so far, and I don't see any reason to impede on your progress." It felt right to use more flowery and formal language here, with Mr. Knutler in a suit and all.

"Very well. May I have my leave?" I nodded, and Mr. Knutler stood up before bowing to me and leaving.

"Where to next, Master?" Sasha asked, plainly having sat through the meeting more than once in that past.

"Camp Half-Blood. I'll introduce you, go report to the Judges, then disappear into the public school system." I said with and air of finality.

I took Sasha's arm, and after making sure my hood was up and using Shadow to shroud my face, I brought us to Camp Half-Blood.

"Remember what to do, Sasha." I whispered into her ear, "A nice man took you here, saying you'd be safe. He doesn't take down his hood, ever, so you don't know what he looks like. He told you that you're a daughter of Hecate, and gave you a pen that he said would help. Get Riptide from Zoe, and use it."

Sasha nodded. We were a ways away from Thalia's Pine, which meant the guard there could see the two of us but not hear us. I watched Sasha go up the hill and talk to the guard, who turned and looked at me. I nodded to him, then turned and walked away, shadow-traveling back to the Underworld as soon as I was out of sight.

* * *

**A/N: This is a pretty sucky chapter. At least, it was to me with all the line breaks.**

**So, if you haven't noticed, Mt. Olympus is ripe with corruption. And what will Terminus' promotion have done to the New Romanians and Senate? I'm trying to build a very intricate plot here, which is somewhat tough. A lot of things are gonna be happening at once, so do your best to keep track of everything.**

**I can't think of anything crazy to say here about eating reviews. Darn.**


	5. Chapter 4- The Ruin of the Hunt

**A/N: For some reason, I just can't write _The Golden-Eyed Swordsman _chapter that would've been released two days ago, so instead, you guys get an update.**

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text.

Chapter 4- The Ruin of the Hunt

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Both Sasha and Zoe are in Camp Half-Blood." I reported to the three masked Judges in front of me, not knowing exactly what they intended to do.

"Step forward." I did as they asked, walking until I was in front of them and kneeling. Then a pair of hands clamped onto my skull, an intricate plan being implanted in my mind. _What'll the Judges get out of this?_

"Enact the plan." All three Judges ordered together. I bowed to them, before shadow-traveling somewhere I would never expect to find myself in: the home of Lycaon's Pack.

Immediately, I was ambushed by more then a dozen werewolfs, all in human form, but a growled command stopped them. "What business does the Proctor have here?"

"I propose an attack on the Hunters we both hate." I replied quickly, recognizing Lycaon, "They have been a thorn in my side as well as yours, and I have a plan for them."

"I'm listening."

Time for the first. . . . complication, "I need one of you to bite me."

Lycaon's laughter came out as a growl, "A Proctor would be a fine addition to my Pack, but why do I think you are going to use us for your own ends?"

"Because I will." I stated flatly, "And currently, my ends line up with yours. So you can either bite me, or I leave and go to the Hunters with a similar offer."

Lycaon's laughter was real this time, "You are strong. I can respect that. Arshnok, claim him."

A werewolf leapt out of the shadows, biting me in the forearm and very nearly breaking it. I didn't flinch, or even wince at the pain. _If I do, Lycaon might just put an end to me. I cannot appear weak in any way._

"Only the strong survive the process, Proctor." Lycaon growled, "We'll see if you're one of them.

* * *

**Time Skip: Three Days**

**Percy's POV**

Pain. That was everything I felt. Fire rushed through my veins, boiling my skin. My muscles knotted, strained and stretched as white-hot dagger stabbed into them. But at least I was conscious.

"Hey! 'E's awake!" A werewolf who was sharpening a sword called out.

"Good. Get up." Lycaon ordered. _This is gonna hurt like Hades._

I heaved myself to my feet, ignoring the pain and not making a sound. _You want to see if I'm strong? I'll beat every single one of you right now if it comes down to that._

Lycaon chuckled, "You are one of the strong. Not many can even achieve consciousness at this stage, much less the ability to move."

I snorted, "Perhaps I could explain the plan?"

Lycaon grunted, and gestured to a table with a map on it. I looked it over, pointing, "The Hunters aren't in Nevada anymore. They've moved to just outside Mt. Pennell, in Utah."

Lycaon muttered something under his breath about crafty bitches, then looked back at me, "So what's the plan you have?"

Reaching into a pocket, I withdrew a folded piece of paper and a pencil, then unfolded the paper, "This is the layout of the Hunter's camp. They put themselves in a ravine here, see?"

Lycaon nodded, "Easily defensible from two sides, and those cliffs are impassable. It wouldn't be a favorable engagement."

"No, it wouldn't." I agreed, "But you can't shadow-travel, and the Hunters are always tired right after dinner. How strong is the Pack?"

"We number seventy now, but more than a fourth of them are children and bearing mates."

"You outnumber the Hunt by a good margin, though." I commented, "So, here's the plan. . . ."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I was with a group of twenty werewolves, all in human form and wearing armor. Grislek and Arshnok, his second and third in command, were not among them, instead leading their own groups of werewolves. Lycaon was in charge here, but I was the one getting them in. Drawing Shadow, I instructed everyone to link arms and wait for the signal.

_Wait. . . wait. . . . wait. . . . now!_ Shadows engulfed everyone and deposited them in the center of the Hunter's camp, quickly killing the sentry there.

I turned to wolf-form so my human form wouldn't be recognized, then lunged into the nearest tent. Yells began to break out quickly as the Hunt was brought to a very rude awakening and started fighting back.

The tent I jumped into was empty, probably one of the Hunters on sentry, so I tore through the back and kept going. Outside, I could see werewolves, in human form, fighting young woman in silver clothes. The Hunters were fast, graceful, and skillful, but the Pack was just as skilled, brutal, and didn't bother being graceful.

Artemis was fighting Lycaon, and they seemed evenly matched so far, but the Hunters were steadily winning on the ground, injuring more and more werewolves. _What are you waiting for, Lycaon? Spring the trap!_

I leapt, knocking Artemis over and racking my claws down her side. Lycaon recognized me, glanced around, then howled into the air. _Finally_. As fifteen more werewolves closed in from each side, the Hunters were badly outnumbered and surrounded, getting massacred in short order.

"Get to me!" Artemis called, burying a fist in my flank, then picking me up and throwing me at Lycaon. Almost simultaneously, the remaining Hunters that could move broke away from there opponents and ran towards Artemis. Maybe ten left out of the forty the Hunt started with.

Artemis flashed away, and I knew the battle was over. The werewolves moved around, finishing off the wounded, but one of them caught my attention.

"Wait." I blocked a slash that was going to take Thalia's head off. "I want this one."

The werewolf, Grishlek, turned to Lycaon, who nodded, "Let'im have that bitch. I'm sure she'll be dead after the Proctor's done with her. Not every day he comes across a virgin, after all."

"I have a feeling I'll . . . _enjoy_ . . . this one for a long time." I replied, trying to make Thalia fear me. I prefer playing Bad Cop, Worse Cop over Bad Cop, Good Cop. No dice, though, as she was already unconscious.

"You held your end of the bargain, Proctor." Lycaon growled, "And as much as I've taken pleasure in doing this, I can't have you as part of my Pack. Leave."

I whipped Shadow out an around, sending spears of darkness through Lycaon, pinning him to the ground, "You do not tell me what to do, Lycaon. You're fortunate that I'm in a hurry, so I'll just leave you with this."

A blade of shadow sliced down vertically on Lycaon's face, making a cut that went from his hairline, nicking his right eye, down to his jaw line, deep enough to make a nice, big scar. Grabbing Thalia roughly, I shadow-traveled us both back down to the Underworld.

Thalia had some vicious claw wounds on her throat and stomach, but she was alive. Now for the next part. Carefully, I plugged her nose until she had to opened her mouth to breathe, then poured some nectar down her throat, making her swallow. Once all the claw marks were gone, I turned into a wolf and bit her in the shoulder. _I hope this works. If she dies, no big loss, but it'd be much more useful if she lives._

I traveled up to the Judging Pavilion, where Minos was waiting. All of the Judges had something different about them. Minos' mask curled upwards in the suggestion of horns, Machiavelli's robes had some of his quotes embroidered on it, but that wasn't very noticeable and took me a long time to figure out. The third Judge, George Read, had a very tiny emblem of an eagle embossed on his mask.

"The Hunt is decimated, and I have a captive." I reported, kneeling.

"Who?"

"Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus and Lieutenant of the Hunt." I replied, keeping my head lowered as a sign of subservience.

Minos hissed, but I couldn't tell if it was with anger or laughter, "She will do well. Proceed with the next step."

I hesitated, "Is she-"

"The goddess agrees with us.." Minos cut me off, "Ten lashes for questioning, after the appointment."

_Should've seen that coming_. Suddenly, a flash of light filled the room as a women in all leather -sort of a _Micheal Jackson joins the Hell Angels_ look. I knelt to her as well before meeting her eyes.

Her face seemed to shift, first looking like Drew, then having a startling resemblance to Zeus, before it settled on a completely different countenance, "Hmm. You seem to have an astounding lack of desire for revenge."

"A by-product of the rebirth process." Minos supplied, "But you can provide that, surely."

"I'll see what I can do." Nemesis was circling me, sizing me up, "Good enough."

Her hands clutched at my face, and I felt something shifting there, like my face was re-molding itself.

"It is done, Minos. Now I must reawaken vengeance inside of him." Nemesis' eyes met mine, and suddenly, I felt outrage at Zeus and the Olympians, and at Drew for framing me. Those emotions were clamped down, but I still wanted revenge on them. "Good."

"What, exactly, have you done to me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Altered your natural face, as well as creating several Mist shrouds." Nemesis replied, "Wish your features to change, and they will. Your "natural" face has black eyes and your cheekbones shifted upward. Your other faces, however, are much more exotic."

"Thank you. Rest assured that we will withhold our side of the bargain." I said. Nemesis snorted, and left.

"Proctor, report to the chamber, then proceed." Minos ordered.

Standing and bowing, I traveled down to the "torture chamber" and let the thin man there strap me to the pole.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The lashes stung, but not as much as before. _Maybe I am getting used to them, after all. Or maybe it's just a side effect of being a werewolf now. Who knows, who cares?_

Rolling my shoulders sent a ripple of pain through my body, but it kept me alert as I re-entered my room. Thalia was still on the bed, unconscious and shaking. _If I got out of it in three days, then I should have some time before she wakes. Should, that is._

Without a second thought, I left Thalia writhing on the bed in pain, shadow-traveling myself up to the hallway outside the Dean's room in Goode. School just got out, if I remembered correctly, so the Dean should still be there.

"Enter." I heard Mrs. Dolores Connors' voice through the door after I knocked. In the mirror behind her desk, I could see my new appearance. _My natural appearance, at least._ My hair was still black, but my eyes had turned black and my cheekbones were raised a small amount. _Pretty cool, and I barely even recognize myself._

"Hello, Mrs. Connors, I'm the transfer student from Norway. You requested that we met so we could shake out the schedule." I snapped my fingers, the Mist making Dolores Connors convinced with everything I was saying, "I was shadowing a Geoffery Wrong, and I was also wonder what classes he has, so we might be together. I believe you allowed me to create my own schedule, and while it's odd for an eighteen year-old to still attend highschool, I wished to learn the language and customs of Americans before entering college, as failure to understand idioms and such could be harmful to my academic knowledge. Since you are currently holding summer lessons for more mentally challenged students, it seems perfect"

Geoffery Wrong was one of the Satyrs posted here, so he was probably the best way to attract attention. Since the Dean was practically bending over backwards to my Mist-bending, it shouldn't be very difficult._ And hopefully, no one'll ask me to speak Norwegian. Besides, it's summer right now._

"Here is a schedule sheet, along with a copy of Mr. Wrong's schedule. Please fill it out, Mr. . ?"

"Ah, I'm sorry. Muro. Landon Difabio Muro." I smiled easily at her. _Charm never hurt_.

Quickly, I copied Geoffery's schedule. He was in the assisted reading class, probably because most demigods ended up there. But, at the same time, most of the meaner people ended up there. _And all of them'll be in a bad mood for having to go to classes during the summer._

"Here you are, Mrs. Connors." I handed the sheet back, "Everything's in order, no need to check it. I'll be here tomorrow."

Mrs. Connors nodded, her eyes distant, and slid the paperwork into a desk drawer while I walked out the door, picking up my leather jacket on the way.

* * *

**Time Skip: One Day**

**Percy's POV**

My first thought when walking into Goode was this: _Ugg, school._ And the second thought was: _I thought dying would let me get out of school._ While my third though was: _Hey, cute girls at least_.

My first class, luckily, was assisted language arts, and after I "convinced" a student to give me all his supplies and locker combination, I went to class. The first thing I noticed was that Geoffery was all alone, which left me to remedy the situation. Right now, I wasn't in the Proctor outfit, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt and loose khaki shorts. Shadow was in the Underworld, but with the eclipse mark still on my hand, I could still use it's powers.

_Time to start the ball rolling._ I sat down in an open desk right next to Geoffery, "Hi, who're you?"

"Geoffery. Geoffery Wrong." He was a bit shorter then a average Satyr, and a lot shorter than me.

I shook his offered hand, "Perseus. Perseus Ekdíki̱si̱."

I had just told him my last name was Revenge, in Greek of course. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything as a couple of big guys walked up, "Hey, Geoff! You know what you are?"

Geoffery sighed, "What?"

"Wrong!" They, and most of the class, thought this was funny and laughed uproariously. _Good. This'll be fun_.

I ignored the teacher most of the class, instead focusing on the couple of guys who were picking on Geoff.

"Would you, James, tell us what polysyllabic means?" The teacher asked.

James, the bigger of the two guys, looked baffled. I raised a hand, "I doubt James here knows any words with more than one syllable, actually. Probably from his gorilla parents."

The entire class laughed at this, Geoffery included, but the teacher didn't like it, "Then would you mind telling us what it means?"

"Of course not. A polysyllabic word is a word with more than one syllable. I'd expect even a gorilla to get it, but James looks like an exception." I smiled, then imitated him very poorly, "_I be James. I can't speak words good. They too smart for my and me ape brain._"

Every time I could, I also used a sneaky little tendril of shadow to mess with him. I pulled down his fly, put his pencil on the floor a few times, tickled the back of his neck and generally made him look like a complete fool. _Which he was, I guess. Is it just because of Nemesis that I'm enjoying this, getting revenge for Geoffery?_

Luckily, soon the class was over. James got up, and for some _inexplicable_ reason, tripped, slamming into his desk. His buddy, who was almost at the door, turned, and for the same _inexplicable_ reason, he tripped as well. Needless to say, this set off a new round of laughter.

I walked out, then Geoffery grabbed my arm, "Do you have any parents?"

_Huh. Seemingly innocuous, but a perfect question. I can use this_. "No, my dad died when I was young, in Iraq. They said my mom died in childbirth, I never saw her."

"Grandparents?" Geoffery asked, walking in the funny way all Satyrs walked.

"Well, I remember seeing a picture of my grandpa, although I'm pretty sure it was photoshopped. He had black hair, black eyes, and -this is where the photoshop came in- pitch black wings." That was the best description I could really give of Thanatos. Now I could just hope Geoffery took my shadow powers as a product of being a legacy of Thanatos.

"What was his name?" Geoffery pressed, and I could see the light of recognition in his eyes.

"What? Oh, Thanatos Muros. I took my mother's maiden name as my last name." I replied. _Going well so far._

"Think we should skip today? I don't have anything important." Geoffery suggested.

"Sure." _Time to get to Camp._ "I'm from out of town, and I really wanted to go to Long Island. I've heard it has amazing beaches."

"Let's go, then."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Where are we? And what is _that_?" I pointed to Peleus. Geoffery was right next to me, smiling.

"This is your new home, if you're interested." Geoffery took my arm, "Ever heard of the Greek or Roman gods?"

"Yeah, actually." I replied, smiling, "Kinda a personal obsession of mine. The orphanage I grew up in lost my first name, so I just called myself Perseus. Never shorten it to Percy, by the way, or I'll get _really_ annoyed."

Geoffery looked a little surprised, but covered it up quickly, "Well, they're real."

I froze, then burst out laughing, "You're crazy!"

"Then explain why I have goat legs, goat horns, and hooves." Geoffery took off his hat and shoes, making my laughter die off.

"So you're a Satyr?" I asked, "Or a Faun? From what I've found, Roman mythology is a bit. . . . stricter then Greek. Greek mythology tends to be more chaotic."

"Satyr." Geoffery said, "I don't like Fauns. Too lazy. You're taking this pretty well, I think."

"Well, you've probably noticed I can kinda control shadows. That freaked me out a bit, but then I realized it was pretty useful." I shrugged, "It's good to know why."

"How is controlling the shadows useful?"

"Well, if someone insults me or my friends, I can get back at them anonymously. If a bully claims to see shadow-y tentacles, he'd go to an insane asylum." I smirked, "It's almost happened in the past."

"I'd say you were a son of Nemesis, and a legacy of Thanatos." Geoffery stroked his chin, where he was sporting a wispy beard.

"Legacy?"

"Descended from." Geoffery explained, "And yes, I know you're grandfather's name was Thanatos, he was likely the god Thanatos."

"The god of death?" I raised an eyebrow, "How does death or vengeance explain shadows?"

"No idea, but it's more likely then being a son of Hades." Geoffery shrugged, "Hades has had only two children recently, and one of them's dead."

"Why hasn't he?" I inquired, feigning ignorance, "As a god, he could probably have his choice of woman."

"It isn't really like that, Perseus." Geoffery turned, looking at me, "I'll give you an outline. It started in World War Two. Hades' children manipulated Germany to expand, but Zeus' and Poseidon's children opposed it, starting the war. Meanwhile, there was a prophecy that said, if a child of the "Big Three" of gods reached sixteen years old, they may or may not destroy _all_ the gods and goddesses. So, understandably, the Big Three swore not to have children in an attempt to change fate."

Geoffery paused, then spoke again, "Then, a few years ago, a son of Poseidon, Percy Jackson, came into Camp. He went on a few quests, finding out that Luke, a senior camper, was going to betray the gods to Kronos, who was trying to rise again. Fortunately, Annabeth Chase, a daughter of Athena, convinced Luke to kill himself rather then let Kronos rule, ending that war."

While we were talking, we were walking up to the tree. Someone in armor noticed us, "Hey, Geoff. New camper? He's a bit old."

"Yeah, he is. Perseus," The camper gave a little jump at that name, "meet Kira. Kira, meet Perseus."

"Nice to meet you." I stuck out my hand, but Kira scowled at hand, not taking. I shrugged it off, and with Geoffery glaring at Kira, I stepped over the boundry. Immediately, I saw a flicker of light over my head, and looked up to see crossed swords floating above my head.

"Nemesis has claimed you as her son." Geoffery said reverently, "I'll take you to the Big House."

"What with all the bigs? Big Three, Big House. I'll be living in the Big Shed, I'm guessing?" I joked.

Geoffery's laughter sounded suspiciously like a bleat, "Come on, I can introduce you to the Big Horse and his Mighty Drunkenness."

"Dionysus?" I guessed, "I though Satyrs worshiped him."

"Others do." Geoffery's eyes darkened, "I don't."

_Okay, some history there._ Soon, we arrived at the Big House, where Mr. D was losing to Chiron in their daily card game.

"Ah, Geoffery, is this a new demigod?" Chiron asked politely. Half of me wanted to reach out and permanently injure Dionysus, but none of me, strangely, wanted to reveal myself to Chiron.

"Yep. Claimed by Nemesis the second he stepped inside." Geoffery answered, "I think he's also a legacy of Thanatos."

"Really?" Chiron raised an eyebrow at me, "Can you show me your. . . .abilities?"

I shrugged, and sent out a tendril of shadows to roll a pair of dice, keeping the shadows somewhat weak and frail.

"Very good. What is your name?"

"Perseus. Perseus Ekdíki̱si̱." At the mention of Perseus, Chiron seemed to become much older and much sadder.

"Very well. Take him inside, for orientation. It is good to meet you, Percy." Chiron said.

"Can you call me Perseus?" I asked, "I don't like being called Percy."

"Of course. Please, Perseus, follow Geoffery." Chiron gestured to the entrance.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The orientation video was a bit boring, but it actually told me a lot. Annabeth had posthumously taken my place. _After all, who would want a traitor as their hero?_ Credit for my achievements had gone to Annabeth, the infamous Percy Jackson a mere accomplice, waiting to strike. _Well, maybe that's for the better. No one would expect to see him return, so no will. I can't blame them. That evidence was pretty damning, even if it was fake._

When it was done, I walked outside, where Chiron was standing, this time in Centaur form.

"Chiron, who was Percy Jackson?" I asked carefully, "It seems like he was in the center of things, but he was just painted as a traitor, and other then the explosion, it didn't seem like anything else he did was bad."

Chiron's eyes lost their twinkle, "Percy Jackson was a hero, and I do not know why that incident ever occurred. Everyone had a fatal flaw, Perseus. His was loyalty. He would destroy the world if it would save a friend, though, more often then not, he managed both to save the world _and_ his friends. The first year he arrived, he and Annabeth weren't on the best of terms, yet they were thrown on a quest together."

"To get Zeus' bolt."

"Indeed." Chiron smiled, "At the end of the quest, they both still didn't seem like they enjoyed each other's company, but I could tell they did. The second year, I was removed from my position here, replaced by a rather despicable spirit called Tantalus. Thalia's Pine was dying -poison- and Percy took it upon himself, Annabeth Chase, and Tyson the Cyclops to retrieve the Golden Fleece and heal the tree. He succeeded, and the winter of that year, yet another disaster occurred. Annabeth was taken captive by a manticore, Dr. Thorn. Once again, Percy broke the rules and went off to rescue her, following a group of questers. He held up the sky so Lady Artemis could fight Atlas, the Titan of Strength."

"Isn't Artemis the goddess of the Moon and Hunting? Why does she have a group of demigods?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, my boy, Artemis believed that the Hunt could help protect Camp Half-Blood, and Zeus agreed. All of her followers must remain virgins, much like her first nymph entourage. While being both the goddess of Virginity and Childbirth is a bit contradictory, the Hunt has been a tremendous help. Picking up where we left off, Percy, with Annabeth, Grover, and Tyson, traveled into the Labyrinth to find Daedulus. After a harrowing adventure Percy and his friends returned in time to warn us of an invasion, quite possibly saving us all yet again." Chiron sighed, "Then, Percy bathed in the River Styx to defend Olympus from the Titan's army. And while I wish I could tell you more, Perseus, I'm afraid it's time for dinner."

A few seconds later, a conch horn sounded, "See the cabin, gray with black trim and the crossed swords over scales? That's the cabin where your brothers and sisters reside. Please, join them."

I knew exactly what and who I'd be looking for, so I tagged along at the back of the cabin until we reached the Dining Pavilion. Now, after the promise I had the gods make at the end of the Titan War, there were long tables for the big cabins like Ares, Athena, or Hermes, while smaller tables were for Hebe, Nemesis, and others like them.

I got a few glances when I sat down at the Nemesis table, but nothing very hateful. At the head of the round table was Cameron De Alba, an old unclaimed that was claimed right after the Titan War.

"To the gods!" Chiron called, then the wood nymphs came forward with food.

I loaded my plate with brisket and mashed potatoes, then, with the rest of the demigods, got up and went to the braziers, feigning uncertainty. A new Nemesis camper muttered what to do to me, and I nodded thanks, just to keep up appearances.

_To Nemesis, thanks. Needless to say, it worked._

Once I, and all the other camper, nymphs, Satyrs, and other creatures -Mr. D and Chiron- ate, Mr. D stood up, "I suppose Zeus wants me to say hello. So hello, brats. We have a Capture-the-Flag game tomorrow night, so please kill each other. That being said, the penalty for maiming stays. Lastly, we have a new camper, Peter Ediki."

Chiron whispered something, making Dionysus lean down, then Mr. D corrected himself, "Perseus Ekdíki̱si̱, son of Nemesis. Now get out of here before I turn you all into wine corks!"

There was a lot of ugly muttering at my name, and more then a few glares were sent my way. Luckily, I arrived just before dinner, and now that it has passed, they couldn't do much.

All of the Nemesis children left together, none of them chatting with other cabins. _So, not very popular?_

"Hey, Percy, I'm Cameron, your Councilor. Call me Cam." Cam stuck out his hand, and I shook it. His grip was strong, but so was mine.

"Can you call me Perseus, not Percy?" I asked. Cam nodded, and we stepped inside the Nemesis Cabin.

After the first Titan War, everyone -especially me- felt a guilty about Ethan Nakamura, so we all helped make the Nemesis Cabin _awesome_. As such, it had a bit of an underground area that rivaled Beckendorf's Bedroom.

Once we were all downstairs, we all sat in a ring of couches, "So, Perseus, tell us a bit about yourself."

I shrugged modestly, "Not much to say. Dad died when I was a baby, so I was put in an orphanage. Geoffery found me, and here I am. Oh yeah, and I'm a legacy of Thanatos, so I can do this."

I summoned a dense ball of shadows, and formed it into several shapes, including a blade, as I spoke again, "I don't really know anything about all this, so I'd really appreciate if someone could help me learn."

"I'd be happy to teach you." It was a boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen.

"Nah, he doesn't want any of your idiocy." A girl, seventeen years old at my guess, said, "I'm sure he wants only the _best_."

_Looks like it worked. That wasn't very hard, and now they all want to spend time with me just so that the person next to them can't._ Taking advantage of the arguing, I slipped back up ladder that led to the surface.

As soon as I got to the top of the ladder, however, someone grabbed me around my left arm.

"That was pleasing to observe, Perseus." I turned to see the young woman -who looked about ninteen and had my bicep in a firm grasp. She was incredibly beautiful, with dark blonde hair going just under her shoulder blades. Her face was perfectly proportioned and flawless, but I barely noticed. Her eyes, though, her eyes. . . . . startlingly blue, and cold as ice.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Now, tell me your _real_ last name, Perseus." As soon as she said those words, a powerful compelling come over me to tell the truth.

_What the frak is this?_ I managed not to say my real name, but instead gave a half-truth, "Proctor. Perseus Proctor."

"Miranda Lytvyn, a pleasure to meet you." Her eyes never changed. They were still cold and inscrutable.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I swore.

"My little secret. We have much in common, Perseus, from what I saw down there." The grip on my bicep never faltered, "That was impressive."

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, my voice feigning innocence while a smirk graced my lips.

Miranda laughed, exposing very white and even teeth, her hand now dropping from my arm, "You manipulated the entire Nemesis Cabin, but me."

"Thank you, although that is a somewhat dubious compliment."

"It is indeed. You remind me quite a bit of myself, Mr. Proctor. With your unfortunate first name and your parentage, I can see several unfortunate accidents happening in the future. If you would like, I can show you how to overcome such things."

"And what experience do you have with "such things", Miranda?"

Miranda laughed again, a beautiful sound, "Why, Mr. Proctor, in the beginning, most wanted nothing to do with me."

"Now?" I prodded.

"Now they all fear me." Miranda bared her teeth, "I have turned what might have been Tartaurus into a virtual paradise."

I raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

"I showed them I was the meanest, most cunning, and toughest bitch here. I think you could possibly be useful, with some time and effort." Our eyes met, mine black, cold and calculating, hers blue and ruthlessly cunning.

Slowly, I bared my teeth the same way she did, "I think this could be the start of a beautiful relationship, Miss Lytvyn."

Miranda elegantly rose from where we had sat down, "Come see me tomorrow, after Archery."

She walked away, every movement graceful, but measured. Even still, her entire body swayed enticingly as she walked. _I just entered a deal with the devil. Let's see which of us two can outwit the other._

But, more shockingly to me, I felt something I hadn't since there was an explosion in Camp Half-Blood, and a chat in a certain elevator going to the Underworld.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I had woken up at four o' clock, purely based on habit, and looked around my room. It was, of course, underground, but you couldn't tell if you ignored the lack of windows. Since I had about three hours to burn before everyone else woke up, I set to business.

First was to summon Shadow into my hand, then hide it under my bed. While I could still use it's powers without touching it, the closer it was, the better. Without holding it or having it on my body, I couldn't wield the levels of power I was used to, but it was still a lot better than my powers before I had the Sword.

With that out of the way, I took out a drachma, and threw it into a screen of mist I had summoned, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering. Show me Judge Minos, in the Underworld."

Moments later, Minos' masked face appeared, "Proctor. Report."

"I have been accepted into the Nemesis Cabin, and am building trust. Is there any change in the prisoner?"

"No." With that, Minos broke the call.

Sighing, I sat back down on the bed, thinking about how to treat Miranda. Obviously, she was powerful and somewhat influential. She was feared, which would probably make her more interested in my plan. She was elegant and beautiful, both necessary qualities that I would need once I make contact with Octavian. Lastly, Miranda Lytvyn was ruthless and very cunning, both huge pluses.

Zoe was a good fighter, but wasn't as intelligent in terms of politicking, nor as cold-blooded as I would need her to be. I couldn't rely on her as much as I'd like. Sasha had many of the same qualities as Miranda, but she would be _way _to protective of me. Anyone who insulted me might be killed, and she -by my estimate- wasn't as well versed in clever speaking. And I couldn't have a servant fulfill the role Miranda might. _Yeah, might. Remember, Proctor, she can always refuse. Then you'd have to remove her, wouldn't you? Or would you defy the Judges?_

I went to the ring of couches -which was the room from which all the bedrooms came off of- and spent the next hours debating how much I should keep from Miranda. Eventually, I decided to show her most of my abilities and skills, but keep quite about my past. If there was going to be a rumor going around that my last name was Proctor, I was screwed already. _Although I won't have any control over her, at least, that was the impression I got._

Naturally, that ended with me leaning back against the wall near her door, ready to ambush her as she came out. I needed to make it clear that I wasn't to be used and cast aside like many she'd probably talked to before.

For my plan, I needed a knife, but getting a Celestial Bronze one would be far too innocent and "easy" sounding. There was only one Deathbreath here that had Stygian Iron weapons, so I shadow-traveled myself into the Hades Cabin, behind a pair of skeleton guards, and stole his entire belt by shadow-traveling it from his body, then I returned the sword.

I could've, of course, just retrieved one of my own, but I needed Miranda to know that I actually stole the blade, and that Nico had no idea who did.

A few others got out of there rooms before Miranda did, and turned to me, but I saw there eyes flick from me to Miranda's door, then they gulped nervously and walked away. _Looks like you were right, Machiavelli, fear _is_ a powerful motivator. What are you doing, hiding in the shadows behind Minos?_

Miranda walked out at seven o' clock exactly. She didn't look tired, or even drowsy. There wasn't a blond hair out of place on her perfect head. She was wearing a form-fitting black button-down shirt over dark blue jeans. A simple, thin gold necklace graced her neck, completing her blend of elegance and practicality.

Tapping into Shadow, I used the same ability I used the last time I was in camp, -when killing Oliver- making me almost unnoticeable in the dim lighting. Miranda strode out of her room confidently, but the second she passed me by, my knife was pressed into her back.

"Good morning, Miss Lytvyn." I nearly whispered, my lips close to her ear.

"Clever, although sneaking a knife into camp is hardly an accomplishment." Miranda said, "And you lack the right location for this kind of work."

Miranda spun, something glinting in her hand that I didn't notice when she walked out, but I caught the small knife she had on my dagger.

"Ah, but this is no ordinary dagger." I smirked, "I believe this one in unique in the camp."

Miranda let a short laugh escape her full red lips, "One night here, and you have already stolen from one of the most powerful demigods in camp. This could indeed be the start of a fruitful relationship."

To my surprise, the small knife I had blocked turned into a ring that was around her middle finger. I stuck the dagger I had stolen from Nico through my belt. Right now, I was wearing a tight black t-shirt that hid none of my muscles, blue jeans and a black leather belt. _I'll just have to do my best to hide it from Nico._

On the way to the Dining Pavilion for breakfast, I walked to the right and very slightly behind Miranda, emphasizing the fact that she had taken me under her wing. I wasn't subservient to her, but neither were we equals yet

I sat at the Nemesis table while Miranda went to serve herself, and while she was gone, the sixteen year-old boy from last week sat down next to me, on the opposite side of the seat I had left for Miranda.

"Hey, I'm Sean. I'll get you up to speed on everything here in a few meetings." He said, holding out his hand.

I shook it, "Nice to meet you."

"How 'bout after Archery for starters?" Sean suggested.

"Sorry, I'm meeting Miranda then." I shrugged apologetically.

Sean frowned, "Miranda?"

"Miranda Lytvyn, a bit taller then me, dark blonde?" I listed.

"Dark is the right word." Sean muttered under his breath, then spoke up, "Miranda has a creepy rep, man. You sure you want to hang with her alone?"

"He's right, Perseus." A girl added, who sat on the other side of Sean, "Once, in CTF, she put half the older Ares campers in the infirmary. No one could prove it was her, but everybody knew. She's bad business."

"They deserved worse, Olivia." A new voice spoke from behind the girl. Miranda, of course, "Did your parents never tell you not to speak poorly of your superiors? It can lead to some . . . . painful conclusions, if you start spreading rumors."

Olivia flinched as Miranda laid a hand on her shoulder, then stepped purposefully next to me and sat down. Miranda smiled at me, but it was the expectant kind of smile, and I picked up on what she wanted me to do. I stood up, turning and striding over to the buffet. Remembering what Miranda had on her plate, I took three slices of French toast, a sunny-side up egg, and a few strips of bacon. Not exactly what she had, but similar tastes.

As I glanced back, I could see Miranda talking to the two of them, undoubtedly instructing them on what they needed to do to remain on her "good" side. I snorted. _As if Miranda Lytvyn had a good side._

I stood at the sausages, as if debating whether to have some while watching the Nemesis table out of the corner of my eye. Once I saw Miranda put a hand on each of their shoulders, I knew that conversation was just about over, so I took some sausages, dumped them all in the brazier along with a slice of French Toast as an offering to Nemesis, then returned to the table.

Sean and Olivia were very pale, and Miranda was smirking contentedly. I nodded to her before sitting down, but before we could talk, there was a rather large disturbance.

"Travis, Connor, give it back. Now." There was no mistaking the danger in Nico Di Angelo's voice, but the twin sons of Hermes unfortunately had no idea what he was talking about.

I, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was talking about.

"So, you managed to steal something from a son of Hades without any traces, despite the traps and skeleton guards?" Miranda raised an eyebrow.

Knowing she expected modesty, I smirked back, "Yep. Wasn't that hard."

Miranda was apparently thrown just the tiniest bit off balance with my bold reply, but her features smoothed over after that flicker of motion, "You know he _will_ approach this table soon. We are far from the most trusted of cabins."

I smiled easily, "I know, Lytvyn, but where_ is_ that dagger now?"

I had shadow-traveled it back to my room while Miranda was looking at my eyes. To my surprise, however, she didn't even glance down, "Gone, of course. I would not be sitting next to you if I believed you would get caught with that in your possession."

_Interesting. Afraid of Nico? Possibly. Most likely is she would look weak if one of the people she associated with -me- was forced to knuckle under. And the way she runs things here, she's anything but weak._

The rest of breakfast passed with little incident, then our first activity was Swordsmanship. Or rather, Whatever-Your-Chosen-Melee-Weapon-Is-Manship.

"Alright, pair off." Cameron shouted was we entered the training arena, then turned to me, "We'll have to get you something."

Cameron lead me outside of, going to what looked like a rather large shed.

"Let's see. Here, try this." Cameron handed me a spear, but it was to short for me, and the balance was off.

"No, no, that won't work." Cameron took it back, then handed me a broadsword. I knew how to use it, of course, but again, the balance was off.

"Could I get one?" I asked.

Cameron shrugged, "Why not?"

Looking carefully at the different swords, I found one that seemed to be the right length. After I took it from the shed, it fit almost perfectly in my hands. _This works._

"How's this?" I held it up for Cameron.

"That'll do." Cameron led me back to the arena, where he drew his own sword.

"We'll be attacking each other, just so I can get a feel for what you know and what you don't." Cameron said, "If you feel like you're getting overwhelmed, tell me. I don't want to earn Nemesis any extra chores 'cause you died."

We stood a few feet away from each other, the Cameron started with an overhead blow. _Time to make an impression_. Dropping my own sword, I used my bare left hand to slap Cameron's blade aside, then threw a cross that connected with his stomach. Cameron was shocked for a moment, which I took advantage of, hitting him in the chest with a jab then on the jaw again with a cross. I caught the demigod as he fell forward, unconscious.

"What'd you do to _him_?" Olivia asked, apparently not having seen the brief fight.

"We fought. I won." I shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could see Miranda out of the corner of my eye. She was looking at me like my value to her had just increased a small bit.

"He's the second-best fighter in Nemesis!" Olivia protested, "How did _you_ beat _him_?"

Cameron groaned, making me smirk, "Maybe he can tell you."

"You all right?" I asked, waving my hand over Cameron's face.

"Yeah, yeah, fine." I helped him stand upright, "Perseus, this time, use the sword."

I groaned, "Fine."

This time, when he attacked, I made it look like I could barely hold him off, but I could tell a certain blonde with ice-cold eyes wasn't fooled.

* * *

**A/N: Miranda's powers, I think, will be explained in the next chapter, so I won't be keeping you in the dark about that. Obviously, Percy doesn't have the Olympian's best interests at heart, and I_ will_ be keeping you in the dark about the master plan.**

**Oh, and I don't suppose any of you would be interested in beta-reading this?**

**Please review, follow, favorite, whatever. If you don't my ghost will haunt you after I die from starvation.**


	6. Chapter 5- Miranda Lytvyn

**A/N: I didn't come up with Miranda's first name on the fly, actually. I got the first name from my favorite character, Miranda Rose, and she was a six year-old girl, always optimistic and bubbly, without an evil bone in her body. Needless to say, Miranda Lytvyn is completely different.**

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text.

Chapter 5- Miranda Lytvyn

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Explain, Mr. Proctor." Miranda demanded the second we stepped out of Archery, "Your form is acceptable, both in melee weapons and Archery, despite being here for less than a day."

"Oh, I think my form is a bit better than acceptable, the way you've been looking at it the whole day." I smirked at her, knowing she would see both ways of interpreting that statement. "I am ready to learn whatever you teach."

"You must learn two things, the first of which being a quick tongue." Miranda's eyes narrowed, "And the second is punishment. You must show all that crossing you would not be beneficial."

"For example, putting half of them in the infirmary would be an effective sign to the rest?" I asked innocently.

Miranda smirked, "Indeed. Now, Perseus, tell me exactly what you _can_ do, without holding back as you did in Archery or the Arena."

"I think it would be best to show you, Miranda." I got up and held out my hand. Miranda took it, but got up gracefully instead of pulling herself up. _I_ wasn't complaining, though.

"Very well. Show me, Mr. Proctor."

I grinned, then we both disappeared into the ground. I brought us to a rather secluded place in the forest, far away from Bunker Nine, then unsheathed the Celestial Bronze sword I acquired earlier that day.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty." I called, knowing the woods were stocked with monsters. The first one that found us was a Centaur, more wild than the Party Ponies and not against killing demigods. It charged at me, but I disappeared and landed on it's back, riding the the Centaur howled in outrage, a Celestial Bronze sword went all the way through it's chest.

Miranda raised an eyebrow from where she was standing, "You know your way around a sword."

"Well, it isn't a coincidence that my orphanage has a ceremonial sword." A smile grew on my face, "And that so many of the older kids started getting mysterious cuts. For some _odd_ reason, everyone always denied seeing an eleven year-old with black hair and a weapon."

"Very good in terms of ruthlessness, but you are not exactly subtle." Miranda replied, "Take us back to Nemesis, and I will show you something you lack."

I took her hand again and brought us both inside the "commons area" of the Nemesis cabin, where the ring of couches sat around a smoldering fire.

"As I have said before, the typical Ares camper with more muscles or arrogance than sense will not quail before harsh words, which often leads to violence. In that situation, you must learn that harsh measures must be meted out to quell any opposition to your goals." Miranda smiled, but it was not a happy one. More like the pleasure one could get when crushing an enemy, "I am, of course, referring to the practice of damaging the most painful areas possible, while on the outside the punishment _seems_ superficial. In that way, you have only minorly maimed them, yet they will _never_ cross you again."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The days worked out into a kind of schedule. Olivia and Sean would tell me things I already knew about the gods in the morning, then came the various Camp Half-Blood activities, followed by a session with Miranda that usually lasted around two hours. After that came a check-in the Minos, practicing a little with Shadow, then sleep.

Days passed without much incident. Miranda and I were on the Blue Team for CTF, and we won by baiting most of the Ares Cabin to chase us while our allies -not friends- took the flag. Unfortunately, that led to some insults, which I responded to in kind. Thanks to Miranda, I could always keep my temper and respond with tactful blows. Judging by the glares, though, this wasn't over yet.

For some odd reason, one day Miranda didn't show up at breakfast, on the the Arena, and the Ares Cabin decided to take advantage of that.

"Hey, the runt's _all alone_." It was Clarisse, who apparently never stopped showing the newbies a "good" time. "Where's your little _bitch_ friend?"

They shoved me up against a wall, and I went with it for now. _Nine to one. I need an advantage._

"Right behind you." I replied, smirking. As they all spun to look, I drew Nico's dagger as well as the Celestial Bronze sword, lunging forward as I did so.

I managed to hamstring one of them before they realized Miranda wasn't actually there, then the eight of them still up turned on me. While only four of them could surrounded me at a time, it was still at least two more weapons than I had, and these were veterans from the Titan War.

I ducked a spear and stabbed a camper in the thigh before kneeing him in the balls, removing him from the fight, but another Ares camper immediately took his place. After a few more minutes of hard fighting, I took out two more of them before an electric spear slammed into my side. Pain arced through me as Clarisse removed the spear from the mostly superficial wound it created.

"You alright, Perseus?" Clarisse asked with a mocking grin. Other sons and daughters of Ares kicked me in the stomach or head while Clarisse grinned down at me. _Why do they always have to wear those combat boots?_

"He looks fine to me, hit'em again!" It was an Ares camper right next to her, and Clarisse was more than happy to oblige. Before she could drive the spear butt into me a third time, however, Clarisse screamed and toppled, sparks flying from her skin.

All the campers who still could ran away, leaving Clarisse and another two campers on the ground. Looking around, I saw why: Miranda strode forward, her ice-cold eyes filled with hate and the promise of vengeful retribution, "Clarisse, Jeffery, and Grayson. Torturing a new camper, hmm?"

"Go away, Lytvyn. This isn't your business." Clarisse growled pathetically, trying to sound tough whilst lying on the ground.

"Come over here, Perseus." Miranda said the words softly, but there was no mistaking the order, "It seems these two Ares campers have volunteered for a demonstration. You should thank them for their generosity."

I got to my feet, limping slightly while getting over to Miranda. She was as calm and elegant as always, but there was no mistaking the danger and pain in her gaze. Once I was there, I turned and nodded to the two fallen Ares campers, "I appreciate your willingness."

Miranda smirked at my words, "The first and most important step is preparation. Make your victims weak and pliable."

To my surprise, both Clarisse and her friend jerked as electricity pumped through them. _How does she do that?_

When Miranda finished, their skin was a light pinkish color and no doubt very sensitive, "Once they are ready, you may start in earnest."

Miranda once again had the knife in her hand, but this time, it was maybe an inch longer and a bit thinner, allowing for scalpel-like precision, "Observe my work, Perseus. One cannot make the wounds too deep, lest Chiron seek out the offender, regardless of what Clarisse would say. By the same reasoning, you cannot make the cuts too numerous."

Both of Miranda's hands went downwards, the empty one covering Clarisse's mouth while the knife hand made a small cut. I could hear Clarisse's scream through Miranda's hands, which I took pleasure in. _All those years ago, Clarisse, when you tried to suffocate me in a toilet. Maybe if I had felt the slightest mercy towards you, this wouldn't be happening._

Miranda's knife came down again before tears started filling Clarisse's eyes. Miranda's smile was frightening if you were on the receiving end. Luckily, Clarisse was, not me, "So, Ares _bitch,_ did you _honestly_ believe I wouldn't hear if you and your ugly cousins ambushed Perseus? Hmm? I thought not. And yet you still decided to defy _me_!"

Clarisse was terrified, along with the boy I hamstrung as Miranda continued her bloody work.

"I think we're done, Clarisse." Miranda, after she made one last cut. Standing, she jerked Clarisse to her feet while I did practically the same to the other guy. Then, to my surprise, both of them were slammed into the wall by some unseen force.

When I glanced over, Miranda was smiling malevolently. _You don't enjoy hurting people, do you, Miranda? So what do you like about that? Crushing the opposition? Protecting me, perhaps? Showing your power?_

"And there you have it, Perseus." Miranda's knife morphed back into the ring, "They will not bother you again."

I fell into step beside her as we started walking away. That sent screams of protest through my entire body, but I couldn't appear weak in front of her. "How, exactly, did you do that?"

"Revenge." Miranda smirked, "They stabbed you with Lamer, so I made them feel the effects of the lightning spear. Earlier, the night we met, you lied to me about your last name. My revenge was making you tell the truth."

"So, say I killed someone. Could you kill me?"

"You or anyone else." Miranda laughed lightly, "That is the difference between vengeance and justice: Justice is against the people who wronged you. Revenge, Perseus, is much more open."

"Ah, so that's why the crippled guy also felt the electric spear." I nodded in understanding, "I've never been able to do that."

"Nor can many in the cabin, and others that can are very weak with this power." Miranda shrugged, "Cameron may be the Councilor, but I am the most powerful daughter of Nemesis."

"Oh, and I'm not powerful?" I asked, mocking offense, then winced. Definitely broken bones, but nothing hurt as much as being whipped.

"With a few years of practice, you _might, _just might, become decent." Miranda smirked, then noticed a something, "I believe you need to visit the infirmary."

A few minutes later, we were in the infirmary with Chiron looking me over.

"Perseus was attacked near the weapons shed. I'm not sure what they did to him, but I thought it would be best to take him to you." Miranda's voice was filled with concern and kindness, while her face betrayed nothing but fear for my well being. Knowing her, it was fake, but Miranda knew how to work Chiron. _You're playing him like a fiddle, Miranda._

"You did the right thing, Miss Lytvyn." Chiron said, not breaking his eyes from my, "It is a wonder you managed to get him here. By my estimate, at least three cracked ribs, your left arm is broken and your index through ring fingers shattered. Your right ulna and radius are both cracked, but your right hand is mostly undamaged. Severe bruising on your legs, thankfully no broken bones. It also looks like there's been a large amount of electricity pumped through your body."

I could see Miranda's eyes flash and a frown come over her face when she realized just how much damage they'd done to me. I also saw her fists clench, but when she spoke, her voice was the model of innocent concern for a friend, "Will he recover?"

"Yes, in a day or so." Chiron set the bones and gave me some nectar, which I drank gratefully, "Just lie back, Perseus, and rest."

After Chiron left, the expression of concern immediately dropped from Miranda's face, "It appears I have overestimated you, Perseus. I believed you were at least powerful enough to escape."

"Come on, Miranda, it was a little suspicious of you to disappear after our victory in Capture-the-Flag, especially with our. . . .tactic of infuriating the Ares campers. Although, I didn't expect to be outnumbered nine to one."

Her face shifted as she realized was I was implying, then decided to call my bluff, "Really, Perseus, I was under the impression you were beinging beaten. And judging by the fact that you're here, I'd say I was correct in my assumption."

"Fine, you win." I shrugged, sending bolts of pain through my chest, "Still, those Ares campers'll regret it when the next CTF game comes around."

"They will regret it sooner than that." There was a dangerous fire in her usual icy eyes, "Not a word, Mr. Proctor."

"Of course not." I smiled, then Miranda strode out of the infirmary with her knife in hand. This time, though, it was thicker and longer, more war-like.

As soon as she left, though, Sasha came in. "What happened, Master?"

"Ares happened." I groaned, "What cabin are you in?"

"Unclaimed, Master, and living in Hermes." Sasha shrugged, "I'm surprised you aren't up already, Master, but it isn't my place to question."

"If I had a way to get up on my feet, I would've used it already." I raised an eyebrow, which I could do without making the pain any worse, "What are you implying?"

Sasha face-palmed, "Sorry Master, I forgot this was a little after Jeanne's time. May I borrow Shadow? I swear on the Styx I will return it to where you left it after I retrieve the medicine."

I nodded, "I hold you to your oath, Sasha. It's under the bed."

I shadow-traveled her to my room, and a few moments later, felt the eclipse emblem disappear from my hand. Immediately, I felt a lot weaker, and everything hurt more, _way_ more. _Well, it looks like Shadow does more than I thought._

A few minutes later, Sasha appeared next to my bed, holding a vial of clear, yellow liquid. It wasn't nectar, but quite a bit thinner, but an even richer shade of gold.

"Here, drink this." Sasha very carefully poured it into my mouth. Immediately after I swallowed, I felt better. All of my wounds disappeared, my bones mended and the aches were gone.

"Explain, my serpent." I ordered.

"That was some Catholicon, Master." Sasha apparently saw this wasn't enough to satisfy my curiosity, so she continued, "In the fourteenth century, before Jeanne's birth, there was a rather famous scribe and his wife, Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel. Nicholas had the location of a very famous manuscript that the Proctor of that time wanted. Nicholas and his wife sold it at the cost of a cask of nectar. Believing that Nicholas and his wife were completely mortal, the Proctor agreed. However, Perenelle was a legacy of Hebe, and Nicholas the son of Hecate. As a manuscript seller, he had a collection of books describing nectar, and it intrigued him immensely."

"Go on." I prompted.

"Well, once the Proctor found out, he was furious. Unfortunately, the Judges had recently given him a mission to retrieve a Golden Apple. As Western Civilization was centered in France then, the Proctor thought she would steal an Apple, kill the Flamels, then return to the Judges. The Flamels heard of this, and set a trap. The Proctor died in it, and although I managed to retrieve Shadow the the Ouroboros ring, the pair of Golden Apples she was carrying fell into the possession of the Flamels." Sasha sighed, "They disappeared from history."

"I'm sensing a continuation to this story."

"Yes, Nicholas was credited with being an alchemist _after_ his death for a reason. In the seventeenth century, the Flamels popped up again, believing that they were safe. The Proctor at the time, a male, was tasked with finding how they lived so long and killing the married couple. The first thing he found out was, contrary to popular belief, Golden Apples do not grant immortality. However, Nicholas became an alchemist after he got his hands on the nectar in the late fourteenth century, and managed to create two things."

"The Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life?" I raised an eyebrow, "Those are a myth."

"I just gave you the Philosopher's Stone, Master, to heal you." Sasha shrugged, "He sold the Catholicon to Kings, Queens, Lords, and other rich people, always for a steep price. It is a cure to most injuries and illnesses, along with being much quicker then nectar in it's curative effects. Nectar can only cure injuries, not illnesses, but this medicine can do both, making it immensely valuable. Lead is actually a primary ingredient of the Catholicon, and Nicholas Flamel only sold it for gold as well. Thus he turned lead into gold."

"And the Elixir of Life?"

"Nicholas Flamel had discovered a formula to make someone immortal. He ground up the Golden Apples and added it to nectar, along with a few other ingredients. His and his wife's supply ran out before the Proctor could get them, however, so they died a natural death. The famed alchemist, though, recorded his findings in a journal, which he called _The Book of Abramelin the Mage_. Completely made up name, of course, but it served it's purpose and was buried with him. Needless to say, it is in your possession now."

"Then why aren't any of the Proctors immortal?"

"The Proctor who retrieved the Golden Apples in the fourteenth century was extraordinary. You are powerful, but she . . . . she was the best of all the Proctors, by far. You have been more immediately successful then her, though, so perhaps you will dethrone her." Sasha smiled at me, "Many Proctors since then have tried to gather a Golden Apple, but so many off them died in that quest that the Judges banned anyone from trying. But do not even _think_ about besting Ladon yet. He is far too powerful for you now, but in five years, if you show the same improvement, you may be able to convince the Judges."

"You read my mind, Sasha." I sighed. _So, if I could get a Golden Apple, I could potentially live for a very long time. But I would need a constant source of Golden Apples, which won't be easy to come by._

Then, surprisingly, an Iris-Message formed right in front of me. It was Jeanne, "Your prisoner's woken up."

_Nine days,_"I'll be right there."

I held out my hand to Sasha, "Shadow."

After she handed it over and the eclipse re-marked my palm, I disappeared.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I grabbed Jeanne's arm as soon as I appeared in the Underworld, "Have you talked to her?"

"No, Proctor." Jeanne shook her head, "You must be the first. However, I moved her to a separate room whilst she was unconscious."

I nodded my thanks, then opened the room and stepped inside. Thalia was sitting on the bed, apparently shocked and confused as to where she was.

"Who're you?" She demanded, her hand instinctively reaching for a knife that wasn't there.

"Tristan Dewolfe." I replied, my face still in it's natural Nemesis-altered form.

"Where am I?"

"In hiding, Thalia. You're healed and mostly safe." I reassured her, "However, during the battle, you were bitten."

Thalia's eyes went wide as she realized what just happened, "Shouldn't I be dead? Why didn't the werewolves kill me?"

"I claimed you, as a spoils of war." I replied offhandedly, like it didn't matter, "I'm a werewolf as well, just not of the Pack."

Thalia's eyes narrowed, but I needed to tell her as much of the truth as possible, "Then why didn't you kill me? Or do _something_ worse."

"I do not plan to make you my mate, Thalia, nor to extract uncouth pleasure from your body." I said tiredly, hoping my tone would help her believe me, "I was formerly part of the Pack, and have seen the error of Lycaon's ways. I do not wanted to by hunted by your sisters, and I grow tired of the pointless slaughter that encompasses your two factions."

Thalia seemed partially convinced by my vague words of repent, but not fully, "Then what's stopped you from giving me back to the Hunt?"

"I had to see if you lived. Becoming a werewolf is no gentle process, and I am personally surprised you survived it." I shrugged, "If I returned you -unconscious and obviously in pain- to the Hunt, I would most likely be interrogated and beaten simply for the fun of it. I've seen it happen, Thalia, and I have no wish for it to reoccur. If you died in the transformation -and it was entirely likely that you could have- I would be put to death despite my protests. Your oh-so-great Hunt would kill me out of grief and not shed a tear latter."

_Come on, Thalia, buy it. I don't want to explain to Nemesis why I couldn't hold my end of the deal_. Thalia nodded, "And if I'm conscious, I'll be able to put in a good word for you?"

I shrugged, "Quite honestly, yes. I have no wish to die, and I do not plan to oppose your Hunt. In fact, I have a plan your lady may like to hear."

Thalia raised an eyebrow, "So willing to betray your former friends already?"

"I merely wish to live. The Pack is out searching for me as we speak," _Complete lie_, "and it will only be a matter of time before they bring me to an end, as they do all traitors. So, the most logical course of action would be to cripple them and make myself less of a target."

"Something tells me you spent a lot of time thinking each of those words out." Thalia accused, "And given your logic, how do I know this isn't a trap to destroy what's left of the Hunt?"

"You don't. I can swear that it isn't, but what is the word of a werewolf to a Hunter? Nothing. Nothing at all And you know as well as I that an oath on the Styx doesn't bind werewolves, or any animals." I shrugged, "I was hoping that coming to the Hunt bearing gifts -you, mostly unharmed- would give legitimacy to my cause. Do I have your word that you'll at least talk to Artemis about _not _killing me?"

Thalia eyed me, "Take me back to my sisters and we'll see."

"Very well." Putting my hands behind my back, I summoned Thalia's bow, quivers, and hunting knives, "Here are your weapons. I would appreciate it if you didn't harm me with them, then we can leave."

Frowning, Thalia attached the sheaths and slung the bow, then nodded, "Where to?"

Unbuckling Shadow so that I _looked _unarmed, I held out my hand, "Just take my hand, and I will get us there."

Hesitantly -it was clear she didn't trust me yet- Thalia lightly touched my palm, then I shadow-traveled us to Camp Half-Blood, where the Hunt was currently residing. Ever since the Athena Cabin blew up, Artemis decided to vacate the Artemis Cabin and instead just pitch their tents. _Probably wise, or I might've removed them another way. The result would be the same, as I could always blame the explosion on the werewolves. . . . .after all, I just need the act of revenge, even if it isn't justice._

We appeared right outside the Hunt's perimeter, so it was no surprise that they shot first. A silver arrow embedded itself in my shoulder, that whole area exploding into agony. It felt like there was a raging fire inside of my shoulder, boiling the blood and scorching the flesh.

Growling, I grabbed the broadhead -thankfully not barbed- and yanked it out. As soon as the silver stopped touching me, the burning was gone, but it still hurt like _hell_.

"Thalia?" A hesitant voice came out of the trees, one I didn't recognize.

"Josha?" Thalia called back, "It's me. I'm alive."

The Hunter, Josha, emerged from the trees with two others, all of them having arrows knocked and aimed at me.

"I am unarmed." I stated calmly, putting my hands behind my head, "I do not wish to harm you."

Sadly that didn't help, as something knocked my unconscious.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

Something cold and very wet splashed over me, bringing my mind to a sharp awakening. I blinked my eyes open, only to shut them as I saw a blinding light shin directly at me. _Classic interrogation. Wake them up suddenly, disorient them with a brilliant light in a dark room, then hit them with questions before they realize where they are. Sorry ladies, that won't work on me._

"You are Tristan Dewolfe." A cold voice stated. Artemis, of course.

I kept my eyes closed and my mouth shut, orienting myself and gathering my thoughts.

"Is that your name?" It was the same voice, but even colder.

"Yes, Artemis, it is indeed my name." Finally, my mind was back in order and cracked open an eye, getting my vision adjusted.

"You are one of Lycaon's?"

"Were. No longer."

"Where is the Pack?"

"I'm not giving that information up until we can have an honest conversation, without all this crap." I gestured to the light.

"Cuff him." Artemis ordered. A Hunter, I didn't know who, clicked something cold around my wrists. After a millisecond of cold, though, came burning agony all the way to my shoulder. Burning, like my arms were being held _inside_ of a fire. Silver, no doubt.

"Where is the Pack?"

"Go to Tartaurus." I growled, "You have my terms."

"Again."

This time, the cuffs went around my upper arms, spreading the flames.

"Where is the Pack?"

"Fuck you and all your little pets!" I yelled, the pain getting to me, "Either you stop interrogating me, and I'll tell you, or I will break out of here!"

Thalia, who was standing behind the Moon Goddess, started to talk,"My lady, from what he's told me-"

"Be quiet." Artemis cut her off, "Where is the Pack?"

"Up yours." Now I was getting used to the burning sensation, "You know what I want! This torture isn't going to break me!"

"Collar him."

This time, it was a circle of the viscous metal, clamping around my throat. I howled in agony, fire coursing through my body.

"Where is the Pack?"

I was too busy screaming to answer, so Artemis gestured and the collar came off.

"Answer me."

I retched a few times, then spoke again, "I really didn't want to do this, Artemis, but you've left me with little choice."

I stood up, bringing the chair I was chained to with me, then threw myself backwards. The chair slammed into a Hunter standing behind me, throwing her back into the wall of the tent. Artemis got to her feet, but before she could flash over, I knelt on the Hunter's throat.

"If you come over here, either of you, she dies." I threatened, "You can't take that chance, Artemis, you have so few Hunters left."

"Neither can you." Artemis pointed out, "You kill her, you're leverage is gone."

I chucked softly, "No, I have more leverage then this bint. Perhaps a bit of information on your backstabbing Lieutenant that she didn't share with you?"

Artemis turned on Thalia, "What?!"

"Ah. . . . um. . . . i-it's n-n-nothing." Thalia stuttered.

"Oh, it's most defiantly something." I tried to grin, but ended up grimacing at the pain in my arms. "Now, we can have a civilized conversation, where I'll tell you everything you need to know, or I can kill this poor little Hunter, get out of here, and leave you all here to rot."

Then, I increased the pressure on the Hunter's throat, cutting off her air, "I'd suggest you make a decision within a few minutes. I'd guess two-and-a-half is all this girl has."

I could see Artemis struggle with the question, then finally nod, "Fine. Tristan, if you release her, Thalia will unlock the cuffs and other restraints."

I let up on the Hunters windpipe and allowed her to breathe again, but kept my knee there, "Once I'm released, I'll release her. Or should I start suffocating her again?"

Thalia first unlocked the silver cuffs, then the steel restraints that kept me to the chair. Spinning, I backed away, keeping them all in front of me. "I'm glad we could be civilized here. Do you have a map?"

"Thalia?"

Thalia took out a map of America and spread it on the table.

"As a gesture of good will, I'll tell you this: The Pack has split up to eradicate the last of you." I said calmly.

"Why aren't you with them, then?" Artemis asked, "This could be an opportunity to kill the rest of us and ensure your dominance."

I sighed, "Since Thalia apparently didn't explain it to you, I will. I'm tired of fighting you. Period. I've seen my friends in the Pack die, and you recently killed the last of them. I don't want to fight the Pack, either. I just want to live my own life. so I don't want you to hunt me down and kill me. As such, I decided the best way to approach you was bearing gifts, hence your Lieutenant, whom I saved from a certain and painful death, most likely following rape."

Artemis nodded, having seen the Pack's work before, "You thought you could just come in here, wave hello, and leave?"

"No. Currently, the Pack wants me dead as well for running off. Needless to say, I want to live, and I don't think I can with the Pack so powerful in relation to you."

"So you want to betray the creatures you've been living with for years?"

"No, Artemis, I wish to live. Wolves are survivors, and I am one of the best." I shrugged, "If I didn't have a plan on how to equalize the Pack with you, I would've simply killed Thalia, dumped her in a river somewhere, and ran away. To Chicago, perhaps, or even Canada. You wouldn't find me there."

"But the Pack would. And they would kill you."

I sighed, "Yes, Artemis, they would. So are you willing to listen, or should I leave?"

"You aren't going anywhere unless I let you go anywhere." Artemis replied sharply, "Being a werewolf won't let you defeat all of us. We have you outnumbered by quite a few people."

"Quite a few less, though, then you want me to think." I pointed out, "I was part of the raid that crippled you, and while I wasn't lucky enough to score any kills, I was responsible for your claw wounds. I trust they have healed nicely?"

Artemis scowled, "I'll get you for those, Dewolfe."

"Sure you will." I laughed, "Anyways, the Pack has split up into groups of twenty to seek you out and crush the rest of your Hunt."

"Twenty is still too many." Thalia pointed out, "We wouldn't win that engagement."

"How many Hunters do you have? Twelve, thirteen at most?" I asked, "One-for-one, your Hunters would beat the werewolves. Thirteen-on-twenty, no, but I can easily build an ambush that could swing the odds in your favor."

I pointed at the map, "Currently, one group is at this point, give or take a mile. A second is here, and a third here. The first two are all fighters, but the third has the young and the mates, with ten fighters to protect them. Lycaon is with the mates, his first Beta in one fighter group, his second Beta in the last. Now, we would have to overwhelm each group desperately, but it shouldn't be very hard. They can't flash themselves anywhere, and all three of them are tracking your scent here."

Artemis' eyes narrowed, "My mind keeps telling me one thing: Why should we trust you? How do we know this isn't a trap?"

"Because if it was, you would already be dead." I stated, "Right now, I can quite possibly cut your jugular, and take the Hunter behind me as a hostage before you can blink. Since it has been more than nine days since the Pack's ambush, they could be surrounding your camp right now. You're very vulnerable here, Artemis, not staying in the cabins where all the demigods are. As a demigod myself, I could allow all of the werewolves access."

I took a breath, then continued, "I disable you and get the Hunter behind me in a chokehold as soon as I hear fighting outside. Fifty fighting werewolves against thirteen Hunters, who all rush in _here_ to find you already unconscious and unable to flash them out. As this tent has one single entrance, they're trapped inside. Meanwhile, the Hunter I caught in a chokehold dies, I draw her weapons and join the other werewolves as they come through the tent flap."

I sliced my throat with my hand, "You all die, Lycaon claps you in chains as a hostage and maybe even a mate. Time? Ten minutes, fifteen if you're lucky. The campers come here after seven minutes, and at that time, your Hunters would already be trapped. If worse comes to worst, the werewolves lock this tent and light it, probably killing me in the process."

Thalia paled, and I could hear the Hunter behind me shift uncomfortably, but Artemis remained completely still. "You've made your point. How far away is the Pack?"

I shrugged, "A day away, give or take a few hours. But they're all converging here, and you can't play defensively. Audaces fortuna iuvat, after all."

"No. We can't risk this." Artemis decided, "You "bold" will get us all killed."

I sighed, throwing my hands into the air theatrically, "Your loss."

But, in that action, I unwittingly exposed the eclipse on my right hand.

"Show me your right palm, Tristan." Artemis ordered.

I froze. _Right? Oh, frak me._ Cursing myself, I exposed the mark, "It's an eclipse. What's so special?"

"Leave." Artemis ordered the Hunters.

"My lady-"

"LEAVE!" The Hunters scurried out the door, and Artemis turned back to me, "So, Proctor, why are you here?"

"Proctor?" I asked, feigning bewilderment._ Okay, the gods think the last Proctor died a century ago. . . . what was his fake name? John Procter? Jeff Procter? Jeff, yeah._ "I acquired that blade a century ago, after killing it's owner."

Artemis hesitated. _Please don't recognize the ring. Please don't._

"And why did you call me Proctor? Is that a name? The guy I killed was Jeff something-rather. Or was it George? Or John? No, wait. I bit Jeff and maybe George. I think. Or did I kill Jeff and John and bite George?"

Apparently, Artemis came to a decision again, "We'll do it if you promise to hide that Sword somewhere no one will find it."

I raised an eyebrow, "That Sword is a powerful weapon. I've carried it long enough to know."

"Do it, or I'll leave you to the Pack." Artemis threatened.

I groaned, "Fine."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

_Hopefully, Camp Half-Blood won't care that I've gone missing for most of the day_. That was my first thought as I looked at the twenty wolves racing along. They were a few dozen feet away, and hadn't seen us yet. There was also a strong wind today, so Artemis made sure we were downwind of this group of the Pack before she struck.

_First things first, Proctor_. Taking a deep breath, I summoned a wall of shadows right in front of the werewolves just in time for them to slam into it. Taking advantage of the stunned -and motionless- werewolves, silver arrows flew from where we were hiding, The first volley killed five or six, the rest of the arrows either missing or just not killing.

To their credit, though, the werewolves shook off the shock quickly, turning into humans and forming a battle line just in time for the Hunters to crash into them. I hung back in the shadows, not letting these werewolves see that I had betrayed them. It was fourteen to fourteen, but the Hunters were better fighters, and they had a goddess on their side. Granted, the Hunters weren't better by _much_, but they had the advantage, and pretty soon the last of the werewolves, Arshnok, fell to the ground, dead.

"That's one." Artemis said, kicking one of the bodies. "Let's go."

Artemis flashed all of the Hunters away to the second group of fighters, but I shadow-traveled to Lycaon's section.

"The Hunt's closing in, Lycaon. You need to get out of here." I warned, having traveled right in front of the Pack's Alpha, "Stay still."

There was a wrenching in my gut as I shadow-traveled thirty wolves a few miles away, then shadow-traveled myself right in front of the second group of fighters. _I'll have to make this look crazy enough that Artemis'll believe I shadow-traveled off course. Ugg,_

Grimacing at the stupidity of my plan, I ran straight at the charging wolves. Spikes of darkness tore into two of them, gaining me a few quick kills. Then, as silver arrows flew from the forest, the werewolves stumbled to a halt. This time, there were sixteen or seventeen compared to the fourteen Hunters. _Good. The more of each side dies, the better._

When the two forces clashed, I stepped backwards, making it look like I was wounded. Which, in fact, I was. One of the Hunt's arrows was sticking out of my thigh, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. But this one was a barbed arrow, so I couldn't just rip it out. Limping backwards, I broke off the shaft and tossed it aside, before summoning my powers.

A spear of darkness flew at a werewolf, but it -very purposefully- missed, while the werewolf struck down the Hunter he was fighting. I looked for another target, making it seem like I was helping, but the fight was winding down already and I didn't want to be accused of killing a Hunter. _Which I've done, at least indirectly. Hades, I've killed more then thirty of them indirectly._

At the end, the werewolves were all dead, but four Hunters went with them. That left the Hunt at ten members, including Artemis. _Perfect._

"That's two." Artemis sighed, "Pick up the fallen and bring them back to camp. We'll get the third tomorrow."

"Artemis." I said in a low voice, "Lycaon will feel that his fellow Pack members have died. He'll run, and you won't be able to find him again until he is strong. Right now, his Pack numbers thirty, but twenty of them are children and mates. He'll recover, and come back stronger than ever. I know how he operates, Artemis, and he'll go into a biting frenzy. Maybe a tenth of those he bites will live, but that won't dissuade him."

Artemis shook her head, "I know. But we can't fight them in this state, Tristan. My Hunt and I need time to recover as well."

"Then I'll leave you here." I disappeared, shadow-traveling back to the Underworld.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"The Pack is decimated, numbering ten fighters and twenty assorted others. The Hunt is now reduced to ten as well, including Artemis." I reported.

"Good." Machiavelli replied, "If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared."

Minos glanced over, "That was not the purpose of this mission, Niccolo, and you have already said that many times."

"Indeed, but now our Proctor is more than capable of annihilating either group with some preparation." Machiavelli might've shrugged, but I couldn't be sure, "It is helpful, is it not?"

"It's very helpful." This was a new voice, from a goddess who had just flashed in, "A monumental act of revenge was brought about by your Proctor, and I enjoyed every second of it. Needless to say, the deal was fulfilled."

"Of course, Lady Nemesis." I bowed to her, "I get my place in Camp Half-Blood, and I give you a great act of revenge. But perhaps I can propose a new deal?"

The Judges stayed silent, knowing that this was all part of _their_ plan. Not mine.

"Lady Nemesis." I paused to let her wonder, then continued, "It has come to my attention, that despite the promise after the recent Titan War, the Olympians are not treating you -nor any of the other minor gods- any better."

Nemesis scowled, "True, but at least my children have their own cabin."

"That was the work of the demigods!" I said, my voice suddenly becoming passionate and inflamed, "The Olympians did not raise one finger to help. _You_, the so-called minor gods claim them, letting them move into cabins the _demigods_ built! What have the Olympians done? What has the so-called King of the Gods done about _your_ lot in life?"

I could see sparks of anger and resentment start to fly in Nemesis' gaze, "Nothing. They haven't done anything at all."

"_Exactly_!" My voice dropped suddenly, making Nemesis lean closer, "Would you like to have power over them? Exact your vengeance on the Olympians for their _intolerable_ actions?"

Nemesis nodded, and my voice return to it's normal volume, "I thought so. If you can, it would be greatly helpful if you could contact others who felt this way. When the time comes, you'll know what to do."

With that, I disappeared, shadow-traveling back inside my room under the Nemesis Cabin. Sadly, as soon as I did, there was the prick of a _very_ sharp knife at the small of my back.

"You, Mr. Proctor, are dead."

"Hello yourself, Ms. Lytvyn." I grumbled as I heard her mocking laughter behind me.

"I am not the most feared daughter of Nemesis for no reason, Perseus." Miranda smirked, "So, what were _you_ doing all day?"

"Enacting a plan of mine." I shrugged like it wasn't important, but Miranda's eyes narrowed, "So, what is the Hunt doing _here_? I got the impression they weren't particularly impressed by us."

"They aren't." Miranda snorted, "The usually "friendly" Capture-the-Flag game was canceled as currently, they only have fourteen members. There are approximately one-hundred ninety demigods here, and however skilled those devils are, it would still be unfair."

"I thought you'd enjoy getting back at them." I prodded.

"I already have. Where do you _think_ I was when you were at the Arena?" Miranda rolled her eyes, "I wasn't following _you_ around."

"So if I was attacked by those Ares campers and hour earlier, I would've been screwed?"

"Most likely." Miranda said uncaringly. "So, Mr. Proctor, what plan were you "enacting", as you put it?"

"Fulfilling an agreement." I shrugged again, "If you'd notice, the Hunt only has ten members now, including Artemis."

"You wouldn't be foolish enough to kill them, I hope?" Miranda asked, her small knife appearing in her right hand. "Or have I overestimated you, Perseus?"

"Not quite." I smiled, "Ever heard of the Pack? 'Course you have. Anyways, Nemesis did a favor for me, and I repaid it by leading the Hunt to the Pack."

Miranda was confused for only a fraction of a second, then she nodded, "A massive act of revenge against the ones who killed their sisters. Passably competent."

I laughed, "Passably? Most of the Hunt is gone, and all the Pack as left is ten fighters, Lycaon, and their children! I crippled the two most powerful fighting forces, alone! And this is "competent?"

_Damn, why does my mouth always go so much faster then my brain? This'll take some explaining._

"So, Perseus, you are claiming to be responsible for the Pack's ambush of the Hunt? I believe a certain silver goddess might like to know that." Miranda said, but after a moment of panic I could see she wouldn't carry out that threat._ After all, I could probably kill her. She'd kill me right back, though._

"Well, I _am_ responsible for the Hunt's current condition, so yes." I shrugged yet again, "You have your secret plans, and I have mine."

"I'm hurt that you would think such a thing of me." Miranda looked innocently upset, but it was a thin facade at best. Now, though, she was changing her appraisal of me.

"Oh, please." I snorted, "I hardly think that someone as plainly ambitious as you would be happy here, even when controlling it."

"And I have trouble believing that one like yourself, claiming to have decimated both the Hunt and the Pack, truly only discovered this world a little over a week ago." Miranda's ice-cold blue eyes met my own, "No, Mr. Proctor. I think that this is all a part of a much grander scheme."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't." I replied noncommittally. _I've said too much already._

After a long while, in which we were both making calculations about each other, Miranda broke the silence, "Tomorrow, Perseus, don't be late."

With that, she turned and strode out the door, leaving me to think about just how much I had screwed up and plan for the future. _And hope the Judges won't kill me._

* * *

**A/N: So, what exactly is the plan here? Why is Percy at Camp Half-Blood? And what are the Judges' motives for this intricate plot?**

**Please review, your feedback is much appreciated and keeps me alive.**


	7. Chapter 6- Allies

**A/N: A bit more of the Judges' plan is going to come to light in this chapter, and no, I haven't laid it all out for you. I'm not going to, until closer to the end.**

**PLAGERISER****: ****Since you're accusing me of that, I'd like you to think of a few things: First, there are over two million stories on this site alone. Second, there are dozens of sites with fanfictions. Third, Miranda is a common name. Fourth, the Flamels aren't exclusive to HP, or SotI:NF (Secrets of the Immortal: Nicholas Flamel), and it's _mentioned _in Harry Potter. Fifth, standing up to and beating down bullies is a common event to stories. All those add up to at least a few dozen stories that have characters named Miranda, Nicholas, or Perenelle beating up bullies. You want to accuse me? Show me the story, and I'll get to work showing _everyone_ just how different my characters are.**

Chapter 6- Allies

* * *

**Percy's POV**

That night I slept somewhat quietly, deciding to wait until morning to report to the Judges. I woke at four o' clock, as my training with Jeanne forced me to -or get woken up by some unpleasant surprise- and immediately made an Iris-Message.

"Report, Proctor." This time, it was George Read.

"There is a demigod who has figured out that I'm not all that I seem. However, all that they know is that I was involved in the Pack-Hunt engagements, and that I likely knew of this world before joining Camp Half-Blood."

"Is removal necessary?"

"No!" I said forcefully, out of instinct, then I carefully regulated my tone, "I'm sorry for the outburst. Rather, I do not believe that silencing her is needed. In fact, I think she would be useful to your plans."

"Explain."

"She is Miranda Lytvyn, a daughter of Nemesis and very powerful. She can convert an action and use it against her enemy, even if that enemy is not the one that preformed the action in the first place. Either that, or the complete opposite. As "revenge" for me lying, she forced me to tell the truth, or at least a half-truth." I looked downward, "Now she knows my "last name" is Proctor, but she seems to be keeping quite for now."

"And she would be useful?"

"Indeed, The entire camp fears and respects her, and she controls them. Chiron, while slightly suspicious, overlooks her, and Dionysus doesn't have a clue." I took a deep breath, thinking through what I was going to say, "She is unspeakably beautiful, graceful, and elegant. Pardon my language, but that is the best way to describe. Her stunning beauty is only matched by her cunning, ambition, and ruthlessness. In addition, I believe she has plans of her own."

"All the more reason to execute her." Read pointed out.

"True, but where does one with grand ambitions go in this world? Where is the seat of more power than anywhere else? The Senate, presiding over the Legion and the city of New Rome." It was the simple truth. "Already, many Greek demigods go there for school, college, and a job. Camp Half-Blood is just that, a camp. Whereas New Rome, or perhaps even Mount Olympus, is a home."

"And how would this Miranda Lytvyn join the Senate? They do not welcome Greek demigods."

I shrugged, "As I said, she is cunning, ruthless, and smart. I think she already has an idea of how. I will most likely enter the Senate within two years, even sooner if I find a good opportunity.

"Much can happen in two years."

"Here, now?" I shook my head, "Not likely. If there was trouble brewing with the Titans, there would be some sign. With the Hunt mostly out of commission, the monster population will start to swell, which is good for us. The Pack being decimated doesn't give us any benefits other than their part in your plan. It is unlikely that the Greeks and Roman will go to war before I incite them. Most of the Olympians are too busy with their own enjoyment to watch over the demigods. The minor gods keep an eye on things, but Nemesis is hopefully building connections."

"Very well. You know the situation better than I." The Judge broke the mist screen, and with it, the connection.

Sighing, I was ready for the next thing I had to do today: Talk to Artemis.

Leaving Shadow under my bed, I nonetheless used my powers to shadow-travel myself into Artemis' tent. To my surprise, she was actually sleeping there. _What about the Moon Chariot? Does it fly itself, or something?_

Artemis' tent was basically a bed, a desk, and a chair. Animal furs littered the floor, making it soft and warm underfoot. For a minute, I debated decapitating or otherwise crippling her while she slept, ultimately deciding against. _After all, that'd put Olympus on alert for a war, and I don't want that. Not yet._

Carefully, I picked up the chair and moved it next to her bed, waiting for her to wake. In her sleep, she tossed and turned a bit, which shoved the covers down a little. That, in turn, showed the rather revealing nightgown she was wearing, which prompted me to take a few pictures. Somewhat embarrassing blackmail.

And then it got even better. All her tossing and turning pulled her low-cut nightgown a bit _too_ far, revealing a globule of flesh she would no doubt go to _massive_ lengths to prevent from appearing in any photos. Needless to say, I snapped a few more shots, then carefully moved the covers upward, to hide that fact that I'd seen, much less taken pictures, of it. _Perfect. I can get quite a big favor for that. Or trade it to another god for an equally big favor._

Like this, not fighting, she look strangely pretty, but nothing compared to Miranda or even Zoe. Noticing a hunting knife at her bedside, I nabbed it and cleared my throat loudly. _After all, I don't need to see if she uncovers herself again._

Immediately, Artemis' eyes shot open, and her hand shot towards the the location where the knife used to be, now sadly empty.

"Looking for this?" I asked mockingly, holding up the hunting knife.

"Tristan." She growled, "What are _you_ doing _here_?"

To my surprise, she didn't lunge forward to attack me, although that could've been because such an action would make her loose the covers, which were the only things that kept her modesty. Chuckling, I tossed the knife back to her, "I merely wished to say that I have fulfilled my promise. The Sword of Shadow, as you call it, is hidden in a very remote place."

To her credit, Artemis plucked the knife right out of the air, then regarded me as if debating whether to gut me, "And yet it's mark still adorns your palm."

"Yes, it does. To my knowledge, it can't be removed, even when the skin it rests on is removed." I shrugged, "Oh, and don't worry. I haven't _permanently_ injured any of you surrogate daughters in getting here. If that is all, I will take my leave."

Turning before she got a chance to reply, I left the tent and rounded the corner, disappearing into the shadows.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The day was going pretty well, until just after Archery. When I went to Miranda's and my usual meeting place -at a pair of adirondack chairs- she was already waiting for me. Even the way she looked at me was odd: Formerly, she looked at me like I was an amusing occupier of her time, and perhaps a mirror of herself. Now, I was something more. Almost like we were equals.

"Perseus." She greeted as I sat down. The blond minx looked completely calm and relaxed in her chair, but I could practically _taste_ the tension between us.

Sizing up the situation, I replied as neutrally as I could, "Miranda."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, tension rising between us. We could sense similar traits in each other, as we had during the first day I showed up. But now, our relationship had reached a breaking point: Either we were going to work together on each other's plans, or we were going to become rivals, at best. At worst, we'd kill each other. _This is the tipping point, I guess. I'd be able to move ahead with the plan without her, but . . . she could help a great deal._

I had no idea what was going on behind those icy blue eyes. They were coldly appraising me, and I knew that behind all the beauty and elegance, this could be a more deadly foe than even Kronos. _Yeah, she can kill me on a whim, after all. I could kill her as well, but my death would be far more costly than her's._

Neither of us were willing to break the silence until well over an hour later, when I spoke up, "Miranda, I . . . I. . . ah, shit. Miranda, you know this can easily end with us killing each other."

There it was, out in the open, "Yes, it could."

"Then I'm going to say this outright, before we get to the clever talking and such: I don't want to kill you. Period. If you take my life at the end of this discussion, I'm not sure I would kill you as revenge." I shrugged, "I won't gain anything by killing you, Miranda, but I have everything to lose if you kill me. Hades, I'm pretty sure that you realize you won't get anything from killing me, either."

"Perhaps. There is that matter of the sword you were carrying, Perseus." Our eyes never broke contact with each other, "That is no ordinary sword, I'm sure."

"True, it isn't. Just as your ring is no ordinary ring." I stated calmly.

"Since you shared a confidence with me at the beginning of this conversation, I will do the same." Miranda, throughout this entire conversation, was calm and collected, like she was detached from her emotions, "I was visited by my mother this morning, Perseus. And do you know what she said?"

I shrugged, "No."

"She said not to harm you, Perseus, and while she neglected to state a reason, she was very adamant." Miranda's eyes now seemed to bore into me, "So I cannot harm you, Mr. Proctor. If I did, I have no doubt Nemesis would take my life."

_Well, that's good news. But why would Nemesis. . . Read. Of course he'd take the precaution. _Of the three Judges, George Read seemed to care the most about my well-being. _And he was the Judge I reported to. This'll become awkward real fast._

"Miranda, to make this simple, I'm just going to tell you _everything_. You won't need to weasel any words out of me, I mean _everything._" I stated calmly, surprising even myself, "I know what I'm about to say will sound ridiculous, but I swear on the River Styx that it's true."

For the first time this conversation, hell, the first time since I knew her, Miranda looked surprised, and even shocked when a boom of thunder sealed the oath. Quickly, though, her features settled into her cool, inscrutably elegant composure, "Then continue."

Taking my time, I laid out everything that happened to me, including the entire plan. Prior to today, only four people knew that this plan even _existed_: The three Judges and myself. Not even Zoe or Sasha knew. Now, I was spilling it all to Miranda Lytvyn, the most cunning, graceful, ruthless, beautiful, dangerous, and elegant female in Camp Half-Blood, or maybe even the entire world.

By the end of the story, she looked like she expected me to get pulled down to the Styx for breaking my oath, but fortunately, I didn't. Eventually deciding that I wasn't going anywhere, Miranda spoke,

"That is quite a tale, Proctor. Mine is not so interesting." She shrugged gracefully, "My father, after Nemesis left him, drunk himself to death one night. I was only two when it happened. The orphanage took me in, but I did not know of my powers for a long time. Older boys claimed me as "their's", until bigger ones chased them off. When I was eleven, one of them -who was no older than fifteen himself- tried to rape me. That was the first time my powers had a visible effect. His manhood fell away from him. Mortals fear that which they do not understand, so gradually, as more and more people who crossed me were dealt lasting injuries, people avoided me. I lived like that for years, until I was picked up by Grover Underwood, a Satyr, and was brought here the day after the explosion you were held responsible for."

Her eyes met mine yet again, and this time, there was something there besides the cunning ambition, the cold dignity, and calculating ruthlessness, but I for the life of me couldn't identify what. _Loneliness?_

"However, my troubles did not end there. Several campers tried to make a move on me, but I refused them. One of them, an Ares camper, did not accept my refusal, and abducted me. Needless to say, I fought back, and being aware of my powers now, I took out my revenge on him for all of my years of loneliness, and being treated like a prize to be won. By the end, he was unrecognizable. Eighteen years of pain, all compressed into a few minutes?" Miranda laughed softly, "After that, I changed. If someone insulted me, they went to sleep that night sporting new injuries. If someone spoke out against me in front of others, I would tear them down. If someone wronged me, I would pay them back double. Then, I realized I would not have a future other than ruling this camp, so I started planning for one. That summer, I inherited my father's money. Then I moved to New Rome, where I now study Political Science, Government, and other related subjects at the college there. Then, a year later, you arrived. I saw something in you, Perseus Jackson. A drive not unlike my own, a sense of ruthlessness and strength the rivaled my abilities. And the rest, they say, is history."

She spread her arms expansively, "So this is my camp and my past, but what we are here about, Perseus, is the future. _My_ original plan was to involve myself with a influential male Senator, kill him and inherit his money, then work my way up the political ladder."

"Why don't you allow me to aid you?" I pressed, "As you've heard, I can most likely enter the Senate in a year, and once there, I can put in a good word here and there."

"But at what cost?"

"Simply the cost of you being an ally to me. We could be either incredibly useful or incredibly dangerous to each other." I was being completely honest, and it looked like she believed me.

"Or perhaps. . ." Miranda trailed off, her lips forming words but no sound came out. She was thinking, analyzing something, but I didn't know what, "I will contact you tomorrow, Jackson."

With that, she stood, turned, and left. Which meant I was going to be stewing with apprehension until she talks to me again.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

For the rest of the day, I roamed the forest with the Celestial Bronze sword, slaughtering every monster I saw, until I tripped. Unfortunately, I tripped into a hole in the ground. _The Labyrinth? Please no._

The cave was completely black, but I could see in the dark, thanks to Shadow. To my surprise, the cave only went a few meters before ending with a pool of water. And it wasn't a natural pool, either. More like someone had taken a huge hunk of rock, carved it into a bowl shape, and stuck it in the floor. But as odd as that was, there was something even weirder at the bottom.

Someone had made an indent for a sword to lay, at the bottom of the somewhat small pool of water. And this indent looked surprisingly familiar. . . . .

I tore my gaze away from the pool, looking around for anymore clues, and something caught my eye. The object was partially embedded in the wall, but it was pure white. A sheath, presumably for the sword that used to lay in the pool. Suddenly, I knew exactly why the indent, and the sheath, looked so familiar.

I summoned Shadow -in it's own sheath- and compared the sheathes. Other than the color, they were an exact match, and Shadow fit the indent perfectly. _There was another Sword, literally _in_ Camp Half-Blood, right under my nose. And I didn't notice! How many times have I been in these frakkin' woods!? Hundreds!? And I never found this frakkin' thing!_

Cursing myself, I drove a foot into the wall in anger. Naturally, the wall didn't budge and I leapt backwards, cradling a bruised toe and cursing even louder. My anger cooled eventually, making me decide to keep the sheath and find it's owner. _After all, whoever owns Light could put quite the hole in my plans, especially if whoever claimed it goes insane. It's only a matter of time._

Shrugging as I made up my mind, I shadow-traveled back to my room in the Nemesis Cabin and hid the Sword and sheathes under my bed, then the conch horn rang for dinner.

But little did I know that I had the _actual_ sheath of Excalibur, nor that it's rumored powers were still waiting for a claimer.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The first thing I noticed at dinner: Miranda was missing. The second thing: The Hunt was missing. The third thing: Declan Ross, one of the unofficial leaders of Camp Half-Blood, was missing. The fourth: About half the Ares Cabin was missing. The fifth? Everyone was whispering.

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"You know Declan? He went berserk!" Olivia whispered back, "Artemis took him up to Olympus. I think he's going to get executed."

"For what?" I was incredulous. Declan had struck me as a kinda noble guy. An unclaimed Hermes camper before the Titan War, he stuck with us, fought hard, and lived. Since he grew to be a leader of the camp, at least a recognized one -*cough* Miranda *cough*- he was still a pretty good guy.

"He almost killed half the Ares Cabin!" Olivia stage-whispered as loud as she could, "I think some of them actually died! In my opinion, we're better off with him gone."

_He wouldn't snap like that over a few goads or catcalls. Something's out here, and I don't know what. Damn, why are there so many things I don't know?_

Dinner passed without incident, other than me hearing rumors ranging from the gods locking Declan in Tartaurus, to the Hunt torturing him, to he and Miranda going at it hot and heavy somewhere with the rest of the Hunt -and Artemis- watching, to Miranda being summoned by Zeus to execute him for treason. Most of the time, I had to stop myself from laughing.

If my "trial" was any judge of how things worked on Olympus, he'd be executed. _Yeah, but he wouldn't have Adikea casting a judgment, right? Speaking of which, I still have no idea why the Olympians were so united in killing me, nor even _why_ Adikea was there instead of Dike. I'd have to ask the Judges for permission to look into that, and into finding Drew._

Refocusing on my food, I finished the meal quickly and headed back to the Nemesis Cabin. Needless to say, Miranda's room was shut and locked, and I didn't particularly feel like shadow-traveling in on her. _If she was even in there at all._

Sighing, I laid down on the covers and fell into a deep sleep. But, of course, I wouldn't get a nice, dreamless sleep following my odd day.

_Indescribable rage pumped through my body as I clasped the grip of an almost familiar Celestial Bronze sword, this one with Stygian Iron inlays and diamonds embedded in the pommel. These Ares punks were gonna burn!_

_Dashing forward, I slammed the sword down into an Ares boy's shield. Sev? Something like that? It didn't matter. All that mattered was the thin line of blood that came when I caught him on the upper arm. The Sword throbbed in my hands, wanting more, NEEDING MORE._

"_Ross! Why?" Clarisse shouted, smashing me in the back with her shield, "Snap out of it!"_

_I just growled and spun. Blinding light erupted from my blade, blinding the Ares campers but leaving me unharmed. Snarling, I pressed the advantage. Jess, another Ares girl, got her leg cut off. The blood flowing from it countered gravity, instead flowing upwards into my Sword, which absorbed it._

_I could sense the mysterious "other" in my head growling in contentment. It had been there ever since I picked up the Sword from that cave. Those Ares campers wanted to boast about there skills? Why don't I show them what _real_ skills are._

_Clarisse lunged, but I grabbed her spear. Electricity coursed through me, but I smiled, then cleaved the spear in half. Arcs of the very same electricity hit the rest of the Ares campers, sending them flying backwards. My Sword pulled me forwards, yearning to cut, to wound, and to kill. And I was all too happy to let it._

_I cut off an arm, then a silver arrow embedded itself in my leg. Growling at the people impudent enough to interrupt my fun, I spun to face my new opponents. Then there was a silver blur, and I was knocked unconscious._

I flew upright, gasping at the vivid dream. Cold sweat slicked my body, and I instinctively summoned my axe. _Nothing's here, Percy. Just a dream._ Groaning, I swung myself out of bed and got dressed, then walked outside and sat down in the ring of couches. In the center of the ring, a fire glowed cheerily, which I took some small measure of comfort in. Apparently, though, I wasn't the only one who had a bad dream.

"Perseus?" It was Miranda, clad in an elegant dressing gown. She tied it around the waist as she walked forward, but even in the dressing gown, she was stunningly beautiful.

"Bad dream?" I guessed.

"It appears so." Her smooth shoulders moved a minuscule amount for a shrug, "And it appears that Mr. Ross indeed hospitalized those Ares campers."

I nodded, "I had the same dream, by the sound of it. Mine ended with a Hunter -Artemis, most likely- knocking him unconscious. That Sword, though. . ."

"Light." Miranda said, bluntly stating what we both knew to be true, "From what I've seen, it looks to be almost a negative of your own Sword, Shadow."

I sighed, "Yes. It looks like we've also discovered what King Arthur meant when he said the Sword was hungry."

"Shadow never felt like that?" Miranda's ice-cold eyes met my own, "What of Water?"

"Not that I know of. I asked Zoe to tell me if she feels constantly angry or aggressive, and she hasn't said anything yet. Sasha, having no experience with Water, doesn't have a clue either." I shrugged, "I had Riptide for years, and I didn't feel anything like that, but . . ."

"But you were holding Riptide, not the Sword of Water." Miranda finished, "If the gods get a hold on Light, it could be very dangerous to us and our plan."

"Our?"

Miranda snorted, "You cannot expect to be able to do that alone."

"Miranda, my friend. Your words, they sting." I said with mock hurt, "So, what'll happen to your own future?"

Miranda eyed me, "It will change, of course. At our last discussion, I had an idea that could not have been in either of our plans as lone politicians, even if we join one of the parties."

"And queue the dramatic pause to make the other person lean inwards, unconsciously putting themselves under you." I said as Miranda fell silent, "We both know that tactic far too well."

"Quite." Miranda smirked, "It is good to see my hard work is not _completely_ lost on your clumsy mannerisms. As one of us will already join the Senate, I rather thought the other could join the Bureaucracy."

"I didn't think there was a Bureaucracy in New Rome." I raised an eyebrow, "It's a bit modern, isn't it?"

"And now I see my work _has_ been lost on you." Miranda sighed, "Yes, Perseus, there is a Bureaucracy in New Rome. If you had bothered to learn _any_ history at all, you would find that Gaius Octavius Caesar created the first bureaucracy, to run things when he was not able. In particular, I was thinking of the Treasury."

"The Treasury?" I asked, the understanding fell on me, "Ah. I'm guessing providing supplies, armaments and such for the Legion is expensive. And, if there's any money siphoning, you could see it."

"Indeed, although I suspect they would hide it well. Romans have had thousands of years of practice in cheating the system." Miranda smirked, "But I will outwit them."

"You will? You've been majoring in Political Science!" I protested, "You should be the Senator!"

"No. You, without any studying, have managed to outwit me more than a few times in our games." Miranda smirked, "And besides, _you_ will be the target of assassinations and foul play, not me."

"I guess, but you've beaten me in those mind games too. Hell, I remember when you convinced me that Clarisse was spying for Kronos!" One of our games was that we -using a mix of fake evidence, inflammatory language, subtle clues, and general convincing- would try to make the other believe something. But that was mixed in with _actually_ discovering secrets about the campers, so neither of us was sure what was true and what wasn't before the other told them.

Miranda smirked contentedly, " I had to stop you from storming the Ares Cabin, if I remember correctly. But _you_ managed to steal the leopard head from the War Room, and despite the clear evidence pointing at you, you managed to blame the whole thing on Connor and Travis. In fact, even _I_ fell for it."

"Along with the rest of the camp, yeah." I chuckled at the memory. I had even left my camp-issued Celestial Bronze sword there, along with plenty of other things, but after a few days of giving eloquent almost-speeches to everyone, I managed to twist the circumstantial evidence to implicate Connor and Travis. The Hermes Cabin got kitchen-cleaning duty for the rest of the summer -which they were still serving- while I got off scott-free.

"And you will only improve." Miranda's face became serious again, the moment of mirth forgotten, "Without studying, you will be more inclined to do something unexpected, something new and different. Your skills are on par with my own, and yours will grow with more experience. You have taken to our politics like a fish to water."

She smirked at her joke, but didn't laugh, "More importantly, Perseus, you _enjoy_ it."

"You do to." I pointed out.

"For me, it is the joy of accomplishment as I see my actions unfold. For you, it is something more."

I shrugged, "Fine. I can't think of any arguments, so you've convinced me. I take it that means you need some way to the top that I can't really help with, and you need to disassociate with me?"

"Correct on both accounts, although the soonest this will become relevant is at the end of summer." Miranda said, "So you _will_ be at our meeting place at the usual time."

"I wouldn't dream of it otherwise." I replied, mocking a bow while sitting. "Now, I'm pretty sure people will start coming out soon, and by the fact that I've never seen you in that before, you'd rather not be seen in it. Although, your gown is much better than Artemis'."

"You've seen Artemis in a dressing gown?" Miranda raised an eyebrow, "When, Jackson, did that happen?"

"I'll tell you at the "usual time", as you call it." After I said this, Miranda glared at me. Needless to say, I chuckled, "Hey, you made me wait!"

Miranda just huffed, stood, and re-entered her room. I shrugged before standing and heading for the Dining Pavilion. Apparently, I was the only one who woke this early so I helped myself to the freshest food and sat down. Prior to today I usually arrived in the middle of the pack, just to not draw anymore attention than needed. Today I didn't really care. _After all, my "teacher" here is willing to work with me._

Other demigods sat down in ones and twos, until I finished breakfast and left, heading for the Arena to warm up before Cameron got there. Swordsmanship passed quickly, with my steady, if large "improvement" continuing every day. Hopefully, holding back less and less everyday would let me exert my full skill sometime soon. The same thing occurred in Archery, then Canoeing, then Pegasus Riding, then the rest of the activities, until they were finally over and I could finally head over to the adirondack chairs Miranda and I met at.

This time, I got there before Miranda, sitting on the left as usually did, and waited. Less than a minute later, she arrived and sat down with the same poise and elegance she always did.

"So, Perseus, regale me with the story of how you found yourself to be in the same room as a nightdress-clad Artemis."

"Well, I was going to tell her how I hid Shadow in a place no one would likely find it. Of course, that was a lie, but it wouldn't do to have her be suspicious of me. She already wants to kill me enough for being a werewolf." I shrugged, "It was early this morning, actually, just after half-past four. I shadow-traveled into her tent, ready to surprise her when she woke. This is the state I found her in."

I took out my phone, and -hiding a smile- I showed in to Miranda, who smirked, "I do not think Artemis would like other people seeing these photos."

I laughed, "Yeah, it's not a very modest nightgown, is it? But look what happened after a few minutes of tossing and turning."

I went through the pictures until I found the one with Artemis lying on the bed with one breast exposed, "I'd imagine this picture would be worth quite a favor."

To my surprise, Miranda actually smiled at this. Usually, the only expressions that graced her beautiful features were a mocking smirk, cruel laughter, or simply joy when she got the best of me. Even when she smiled on a few rare occasions, it was usually mocking or not directed at me. Now, though, it was entirely different.

Miranda nodded slowly, already thinking of how this could be used, "A very big favor indeed. In fact, I believe there is little she would not give to get rid of this. Does she know you have it?"

"No. I covertly pulled the covers up on her to hide it. In fact, I believe her state of undress was the only think preventing her from lunging at me when she woke." I smiled back, "I think it could be used to give her a good shock at one point."

"An unbalanced opponent is the easiest to topple, be it on the political or physical battleground." Miranda stated, "One of the first things I taught you, I believe."

"Yep. What do you think about Declan's disappearance?" I asked, starting one of our mind games.

Miranda, didn't know I would be trying to fool her into believing my run of events in the next few days, though, so she answered without any wariness, "Most likely? He gets a telling-off from Chiron, forcing him to stay in his cabin for a while. Maybe even until the end of summer."

"Don't you think that he could've been executed?" I asked innocently, but not too innocently, and leaned in close. All calculated to make her actually think about my idea, not just dismiss it out of hand, "I mean, they executed me, and I wasn't insane."

"I do doubt he's insane, Perseus." Miranda's eyes met my own, and I tried desperately to clear them of any deceit, "You felt as well as I did that he was in full control of his faculties."

"Who says?" I pressed, my voice changing, becoming louder and somewhat more passionate, "We were in his mind for a matter of minutes, at most. Minutes, Ms. Lytvyn, are too short to be any judge of a person's well-being. Would you trust your life to someone you've only known for a few minutes, and in those minutes he was recklessly slaughtering everything in sight?"

"No." Miranda admitted, then changed the subject, "What do you think of Chiron? He has been very. . . . docile these past few years."

I chuckled at the thought, "Been like that for as long as I've known him. I remember my second year here, despite knowing Luke poisoned Thalia's Pine, Chiron refused to accuse him."

"He _does _believe everyone deserves a second chance. And a third."

"Yeah, one time when I was with Annabeth, I tried to impress her by, of all things, stealing a car." I laughed as I looked back at how foolish I was back then, "Used the Mist to convince the driver of this really sweet GT to give me his keys and walk away. Chiron managed to smooth it over, and didn't give me cabin-arrest, or even kitchen duty."

"Sounds like he wanted to be on your good side." Miranda remarked, "Probably just wanted to look good."

"Yeah, probably."I agreed._ Wait, Chiron never tried to "look good" to anyone else. So what _was _that about? He always seemed to think about what is the "right" thing to do, for the greater good, except when it involved killing someone. And I really don't think that falls into the greater good category._ "But it never seemed like Chiron wanted to impress anyone, or show favoritism, even if the camp did."

"Oh?" Miranda raised an eyebrow, "He helped you get over the traumatic experiences of your childhood, surely? Anything less would be a crime of neglect!"

"Actually, he never did. . . . meh, doesn't really matter now." I shrugged, but her words set off a line of thinking in my head. _Why would Chiron send me -when I was only twelve- to retrieve one of the most powerful weapons in existence, that would've had to have been stolen in the first place by someone just as powerful? Why would Luke even give the bolt to Ares in the first place? Luke could've just kept the bolt and let the Olympians start World War Three! Something smells odd here. . . _

Miranda shrugged slightly as well, in apparent agreement, "Now, you need to work on domination. In that situation, remember this: You will not take no as an answer. Either they give in, or you get rid of them. If an opponent can be cowed by a show of strength, then you have won the battle without compromises, and in the future, they will submit to you more easily. . . ."

* * *

**Time Skip: 27 Days (36 after Percy entered camp)**

**Percy's POV**

The days had settled into a rhythm, the days passing quickly, until I got a bit into my second month here. My relationship with Miranda had changed from teacher-student to friend, and now it was something more. Now, occasionally, we would hold hands and -very rarely- hug. She would sometimes seem more animated, and to my surprise, I felt the same things happening to me.

Then something happened that could throw all my carefully laid plans right into the fire: The Hunters came back.

**A/N: I'm trying to stay true to the numerous legends I refer to, so I'll try to put some background in these Author's Notes. Oh, and remember that while Percy knows that the scabbard he found belonged to the Sword of Light, he never learned the Sword of Light was Excalibur, much less the rumors attached to that scabbard. Oh, and in addition, you might want to know something about the Senate before I really get into it.**

**The Sheath of Excalibur was rumored to do a few things. One was that the owner would not die from blood loss (or, sometimes, that the owner wouldn't bleed at all). Another was that the person who owned the sheath would heal quicker than normal. Not nectar quick, but faster than normal.**

**Stories I _could_ be accused of plagerising (probably): The Assassin of Darkness, Assassin, Assassin School, The Assassin's Order, The Lone Ninja, Ninjas: Taking Over the World, The Murdered, Sneaky Sam, Secrets of the Immortal: Nicholas Flamel, etc. The list goes on for several dozen titles (in all fandoms), spread across Fictionpad, Wordpress, real books that i've read, and a dozen other sites Feel free to insult me like that guest did for all of these, or be a good person and tell that guest to fuck off.**


	8. Chapter 7- Mob Beatings and Casteration

**A/N: Here it is, also the first chapter of mine to be beta-read by AgitatedDog9288. I meant to publish this yesterday, but I had a problem, one thing led to another, and I ended up attending a high school team's rugby game (Please don't ask).**

**Big thank you to AgitatedDog9288, iheartpickles, kablamstar, and a Guest for supporting me.**

Chapter 7-Mob Beatings and Castration

* * *

**Percy's POV**

Hestia, of all the goddesses, flashed into the middle of camp right when we were finishing lunch.

"The Hunt has been disbanded!" There was no mistaking the fury in her tone, or the expression of absolute rage on her face, "They will be staying here, in Cabin Eight."

_What the Hades?_ True to her word, eight of the nine Hunters left were flashed in -Phoebe being the one missing-, along with two new additions. One had silvery hair, and was somewhat small. But I could see her small and seemingly vulnerable exterior hid someone very determined, and not-at-all vulnerable. The other was a firebrand, if I ever saw one. Shocking red hair almost covering very spirited scarlet eyes. But, alone among the Hunters, she wore heavy jeans that covered her legs entirely, ending in heavy boots.

_Curious. Very curious._ As soon as they appeared, a rough looking man that I recognized for my adventures in the Mare Nostrum also flashed in. Heracles. _What's he doing here?_

"I will keep watch on the Hunt for the duration of their stay here." He announced, with Hestia nodding along, "Needless to say, they aren't in very good terms with Pop up there, and my role here is very vague. You'll also find that my gaze often . . . slips away."

Already, I could hear mutterings of getting revenge on the Hunters, even before Hestia flashed away. Revenge for all the Campers who had gotten killed, castrated, or turned into a jackalope by the Hunt and their godly leader. _This'll get hairy._

Miranda was among the crowd, but unlike the others, she was eyeing the Hunters in much the same way I , she caught my eye and tossed her head. I nodded back, and we simultaneously left the crowd of angry demigods to mutter.

"This is bad." I stated, "Could rip the plan to pieces."

"Possibly, or be an opportunity." Miranda noted, "We need the Hunt on somewhat good terms with us for the plan to work, yes? But what if the Hunt were removed from the equation entirely?"

I shook my head vehemently, "Not worth it. These campers won't kill the Hunters, just bash them around and maybe try to rape a few of them. Sure, we could incite them to kill the Hunters, but if even one Hunter escaped. . . ."

"It would be disastrous." Miranda finished, just as cries of pain started issuing from the small group of Hunters, "We cannot stop that now, even if we spoke out. So we let the Campers vent now, and tomorrow we get them to stop. Everyone knows that we have some kind of relationship, and given your reputation as a swordsman and my own ruthless streak, our word should carry some weight. That empousa might be a problem, though, along with Thalia's werewolf abilities..."

"You noticed the firebrand, too?" I asked. _Empousa? She does have that look, and those jeans would hide the weird legs._ "We'll just have to make a few examples, if things go south."

"Then we're in agreement?" I nodded, "Good. Remember: A bloody blade . . . ?"

"Is one that doesn't rust." I finished, "Let's start making rounds tomorrow."

I turned just as Miranda drew a huge breath, and slowly exhaled, "What was that?"

"A sigh of contentment, if you will." Miranda replied, her eyes distant, "So much revenge being exacted. With all of this . . . . . oh, I can do so much more."

Suddenly, a fist -or, at least, something that felt like a fist- drove into my gut, making me double over, "Miranda!"

Suddenly, she snapped out of it, "Apologies. It appears my powers are a little . . . overeager. So many different possibilities. . . . "

If that crowd of demigods is beating up the Hunters and Miranda can use any of those blows. . . Hades. _Wow_. "Miranda, restrain yourself."

But she was getting lost again. "Miranda! You've never lost control before, don't start now!"

After a long moment, Miranda's eye cleared and she shook her head roughly, whispering to herself.

"You're back?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Yes, I am. Thank you for asking." Miranda smirked, "It almost makes me feel like our relationship is not purely pragmatic."

I laughed, "We both know it's something more than that, Miss Lytvyn. I already told you I couldn't kill you, after all. Pragmatism would state that I could. Anyways, you know as well as I do that the Hunt won't show up for dinner tonight. By the way Chiron isn't trying to break up this mob, he knows something."

"If we play this right, we can earn immense gratitude." Miranda nodded, thinking and only half paying attention to the conversation. "If they are going to have to have the same schedule as a cabin would, I think we need to do our best to align their schedule with our own."

"Yeah, that'd help." I acknowledged, "I can shadow-travel food to them so they won't have to show up at meals. And then-."

"Wait." Miranda cut me off, "Do not shadow-travel the food directly to them. Take it back to your room first, and give it to them. Make sure they know it came from us, and that we are the ones helping them."

"Plus, subconsciously, they'll get used to doing as we ask." I added. It was true, actually. Subconsciously, they would get used to following our orders, even if they didn't look or sound like orders. One of the many things I learned from Miranda. Now, after taking Miranda's orders for most of a year, the campers would bend to her will more easily than if they hadn't. Like setting a precedent in a court: With each case that reinforces the precedent, the faster and easier the next case is.

"Good. You were listening to me." Miranda's lips curved upward slightly in an almost-smile.

"I'm not stupid, Lytvyn. Any ideas on what to do with Heracles?" I asked, "He's no small foe."

"Oh, Perseus, if you could feel how I do right now." Miranda breathed out slowly, "So much power. If needed, I can disable Heracles for months to come."

"I'm pretty sure I could best him in a fight as well, Miranda, and I might need you on crowd control." I said, "After all, I don't know how effective shadows or water would be against almost two hundred angry demigods."

"Injure the first few, the rest retreat. No one wants to die, Perseus, or even be injured." Miranda replied, "Have I taught you nothing?"

"And is there no end to you contradicting yourself? Why, just a minute ago, you said I listened to you." I smiled cheekily, and then doubled over as another fist rammed into my gut, "Good argument."

"I thought so." Miranda smirked, "You deliver the food first. After that, they will be desperate for a friendly face among the campers, and they already know you."

"Anything we haven't accounted for?" I asked.

"I do not believe the Olympians would interfere. They might watch, depending on what the Hunt did to raise their ire, but in general, they are too lazy, inebriated, or pompous to bother." Miranda smirked at the last few words, "Which leaves the Romans, and any variables in the campers."

"Clarisse and her friends aren't out of the infirmary yet after what Declan did to them." I noted, "The Romans shouldn't be here for another while, and by then, things should be more or less under control."

"Artemis, I presume, is under house-arrest or otherwise powerless to act, or the Hunt wouldn't be here in the first place. The Pack is in hiding, as we both know." Miranda's eyes met my own, "Do not hesitate to deal with anything that changes. All of the campers respect strength and fear. Together, we have plenty of both."

"Then we'd better start making arrangements." To my surprise, we hugged and split up. I headed back to the Dining Pavilion, only to find that the campers were still getting revenge on the small group of Hunters. It was clear, though, that some didn't wholly support this, Cameron being one of them. After a bit of an internal debate, I tapped him on the shoulder and jerk my head back. He nodded, and we headed a short distance away from the shouting.

"What is it?"

"I noticed you aren't part of the crowd." I gestured to the campers, "Why's that?"

"The Hunters are good, and I mean good. The last few days of the Titan War, I was fighting side-by-side with them. They saved my life plenty of times, and I only got a few chances to return the favour." Cameron sighed, shaking his head, "I'm going to say this outright, Perseus. I don't particularly trust you, and I don't particularly like Miranda. Anyone who crosses her ends up in a bad way, and even if she doesn't act unbearably, that isn't something I want hanging over my head."

"I know you don't like us, but I didn't exactly have a choice." _Fine, I did actually, but this was by far the best course of action._ "It was either go under her wing, or get torn apart by anyone who doesn't care for my first name. I don't - and more importantly, _Miranda_ doesn't want this needless degrading and torturing to continue."

"Go on."

"If the Hunters are going to be treated as a cabin, they're going to be forced to do the camp activities. We should make sure they have the same schedule as we do, so we can keep the other cabins from beating them every second of every day." I purposed, "Everyone in your cabin loves you, excepting Miranda and I, of course. If you put your foot down, they won't hurt the Hunters."

Cameron sighed, "The camp fears you two. You just might be able to stop this, so even though I know this isn't doesn't come from your hearts -hell, I don't even think she _has_ one-, but I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. I'll do it, if I can."

"Thank you. I won't forget this, and neither will Miss Lytvyn." I nodded to him, "And no, Miranda _defiantly_ doesn't have a heart."

Cameron laughed bitterly and walked away. He might own the Nemesis Cabin, but Miranda and I own the entire camp. He couldn't actually deny us, and he knew it.

Cameron was missing for the rest of the day, even when dinner rolled around. The Hunters, as Miranda and I thought, hadn't showed, instead in their cabin. That fact wasn't lost on anybody here, however, and there were already angry comments about the "cowardly bitches" that were "pissing their pants in their cabin". I was one of the first there, and managed to shadow-travel away two platters of brisket, a big bowl of mashed potatoes, broccoli, etc. Too much for me to carry alone, but I'd think of something.

I scarfed down the meal, then leaned over and whispered into Miranda's ear, "I'm going."

"Good. I will inform you of the most vocal against the Hunters tonight." Miranda responded in the same volume.

I was by far the first one to leave. In fact, I'm pretty sure I spent less than fifteen minutes there, and headed back to where I had put the food I had stolen. In preparation, I had lit the fire in the Nemesis commons' area, and put the food right next to it to keep in warm. Shadow-traveling it all back to myself, I picked up the two warm platters of brisket and frowned at the remaining dishes, which included a stack of plates and cutlery.

Coming to a quick decision in my mind, I attached Shadow to my side -I'd need all the power and finesse I could for this- and summoned tentacles of darkness to pick up the remaining dishes, then headed for Cabin Eight. It was a short walk, but the walk was filled with me ever-so-carefully bringing the food behnid me. Pretty soon, I was knocking on the door. No one answered, so I knocked again and spoke this time.

"I know you're in there, Hunters, and I know you recognize my voice. I mean you no harm, and while I'm guessing Artemis is pissed off at me, I'm also guessing that you would trust the person who killed twenty werewolves with you enough to give me a chance." At that, there was conversation inside, and then Thalia opened the door, just a crack.

"Tristan? What are you doing here?" Thalia asked.

"Where else would I go? Old folk's home? Retirement Village?" I smirked, "The rest of the camp doesn't know I'm a werewolf, and I plan to keep it that way, just as I plan to keep your and your little firebrand's secrets too."

Grimacing, Thalia opened the door, then her eyes widened as she realized what I was carrying, "Is that for . . . ?"

"Yeah, it's for you." I smiled, "I noticed you weren't at dinner. Needless to say, the rest of the camp doesn't know I'm doing this, and I'd rather keep it that way."

"Then come in!" Thalia practically dragged me inside. The two newest members eyed me with distaste and distrust, but the rest of the Hunters apparently trusted me, even if they didn't like me all that much. Concentrating, I brought the rest of the food in and set in down on a small table.

"Help yourselves." I gestured to the food, "I haven't done anything to it, and there isn't an army of angry demigods waiting to pop out and take it away."

One at a time, they stepped forward, got a plate of food, then stepped back. I looked away while they were eating, then when they were done; I spoke again, "Alright, it's pretty plain that the campers here don't like you. I know, understatement of the year, but it's the truth. So what're you gonna do about it?"

There were frowns all around, and I could tell none of them really thought about doing anything. I sighed, shaking my head, "You can't just take what happened out there every day. You're lucky none of you died today. Speaking of which, pass these around."

I took out my bottle of nectar and bag of ambrosia, then tossed it to Thalia. I could plainly see a couple of broken arms and legs that, while set, weren't going to heal anytime soon. The Hunters took the godly food gratefully, then turned back to me, "What can we do? They outnumber us, nineteen-to-one at last count! And Hercules told us, in no uncertain terms, that if we fought back, there would be trouble."

"Very true. I'm working to stop something like that from happening again, but it's chancy right now." I shrugged, "And once they find about the little firebrand here and Thalia, there's bound to be trouble."

The red-haired girl looked vaguely uncomfortable, but there was no denying it. Thalia, for her part, looked somewhat angry, "We can't fight it, or it gets worse. Period. End of story."

"So you're just going to act like a group of pathetic, broken little boys?" I asked, knowing that accusation would have more effect than pretty much anything else. Heads snapped up, and most of the Hunt glared at me, "See? Don't act like you're dead before your coffin's in the ground."

"They still outnumber us, Tristan." One of the Hunters, I didn't remember who, pointed out.

"Call me Perseus, that's my name here. And it's not the size of the dog in the fight; it's the size of the fight in the dog." I shrugged, "If there was one thing I learned in the Pack, it was that. The Pack, your enemies for centuries, crippled you and slaughtered you down to ten. But did they beat you? No! They didn't, and a group of idiotic, cowardly males did! Those males, who you despise and hate, broke you. So either you get out of this pessimism, or I'm leaving, and I'm taking all your hope with me. Face it, without me, you're dead. No two ways about it."

Finally, I could see sparks of defiance in their eyes, "See? You can beat them yet. You can show them what the Hunters of Artemis are made of!"

I drove a fist into the air, and many of the Hunters -to my surprise- mirrored the action. Looks like Miranda has taught me a thing or two.

"Right, let's get down to business." I leaned against a wall, "The campers usually start coming to breakfast at around seven. Which means you'll have to either A, get there and eat before then, or B, force me to steal food for you for every single meal. I don't particularly care which. Lunch and dinner, I'll definatly have to steal for you, but you need to come to a few meals, at least. If you're completely absent from them, eventually those campers'll start knocking on your door and lying in wait. So you'll have to endure some insults occasionally, but it's better than getting a broken arm."

Thalia nodded, along with the more experienced Hunters, but some of the younger ones looked confused.

"Got it? Good. Now, you'll probably hear a name being thrown around: Miranda Lytvyn. Don't cross her. Ever." I gave everyone a cool, measuring look to make sure that had sunken in, "You also hear another name that's probably thrown around with her's: Perseus Ekdíki̱si̱. That's me. We're both working to try and make your life easier here, but don't try to get friendly with her. She has no friends, and likes it that way. I'm an ally to her, at most."

"You sound afraid." This was one of the older Hunters, who was there before Thalia became the Lieutenant, "Typical male."

I turned a frosty glare her way, "You know the beating you got from those campers? She could do all that and more, alone and twice as fast."

That shocked the Hunter into silence, "That's all for today, hopefully we'll get more time to talk tomorrow. Have a good night."

Waving a hand, I shadow-travelled the dirty dishes -and myself- into the kitchen. Connor and Travis were still there, their kitchen duty still going.

"Connor, Travis, you're going to be seeing a few stacks of dishes appear for you to clean." My voice wasn't friendly, but rather, authoritative, "You're going to clean them and not say anything, or I'll have a little chat with Miranda."

Both of them paled, then nodded. I smirked, "Good."

With that, I shadow-travelled back to my room and fell asleep.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The Judges weren't happy when I reported next morning, but I told them I had the situation well in hand. At least, I hope I do.

This time, I went to breakfast far earlier than I usually did, just to look out for the Hunt, and -if they weren't coming- steal food. The Hunters did show up, though, at about quarter past six, ate quickly, and went back to their cabin in silence.

Miranda showed up at the exact same time she always did, and sat next to me, "Jeff Williams, Ares. Casey Lee, Hermes. Kila Nerkos, Alke. Sandy Hurst, Kratos. Jonathan Kira, Phrike. Clyde Olsen, Zelos."

"Got it." I replied, "Should we delay our meeting until after dealing with them?"

"Yes. The sooner dissent is noticed, the easier it is to quell."

I nodded, heading off to the Arena for Swordsmanship. As usual, I was the first one there, and began beating up dummies as a warm-up. The rest of the Nemesis Cabin arrived soon after, and the Hunt was soon driven there by Heracles, who promptly left again.

"What're those . . . things doing here?" One of the campers -Elijah- stepped forward and drew his sword, "We should teach'em a lesson!"

"The Hunters will be treated with respect, or you will answer to me." Miranda stood with her arms crossed, while Cameron and I walked behind her and to the side. "Understood?"

Elijah paled as she spoke, and paled even further as he saw Cameron and I supporting her, "Yeah, yeah, I get it."

"Good. You know what happens to people who displease me, Elijah, and I believe you would be much less eager to talk without a tongue." As Miranda said those words, Elijah turned even whiter and nodded frantically.

"Right. Pair off as usual, and include the Hunters." Cameron ordered, "If I see anything I don't like, anything at all, you'll be pulling kitchen duty!"

"And I'll use you as a demonstration of what Ms. Lytvyn taught me." I added, "I'm usually not as restrained as she is."

Thalia was paired off with me, but I knew her style inside and out, both with hunting knives and her spear. Ducking a thrust, I tackled her and pinned her to the ground, a forearm to her throat with my legs holding her down, "Concede?"

Thalia nodded, so I got off and pulled her to her feet, then spun as I heard a cry of pain. It was one of the younger Hunters, who had joined the Hunt in the year between my death and my re-joining camp. A camper, Audrey, was standing over her with a bloody knife, and it was plain she maimed the Hunter after the Hunter was beaten. The wound wasn't too deep, but it was still ugly and uncalled for.

"Audrey, it looks like you'll be my first practice." I growled, stalking forward. I tossed a bottle of nectar to the injured Hunter before grabbing Audrey by the arm and dragging her out. Audrey was a few years younger than I was, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with short black hair and chestnut eyes. Once we were a ways away from the Arena, and far away from anyone else, I threw her to the ground and dug my heel into her stomach, "Now, Audrey, why would you do something so incredibly stupid like that? She was already down, and yet you decided to hope that Cameron or I wouldn't notice."

Her eyes were wide and full of fear. _Perfect_. "Now, you're lucky I'm feeling merciful today, but that doesn't mean you're getting off free."

Leaning down, I grabbed her right arm and jerked it downward, dislocating it. As Audrey's mouth opened to scream, I stuck a gag made of shadows inside, muffling the noise. "Are you going to keep hurting the Hunters?"

Audrey shook her head frantically and tried to speak, but the gag wouldn't let her.

"Good." I brutally stuck the bone back into its socket, heralding a new round of muffled screams, "I think that's all then. Don't even think about going to Chiron; After all, you aren't injured in the slightest."

Leaving the now broken girl lying there, I turned and headed back to the Arena. As I entered, most of the Nemesis campers -after they noticed Audrey wasn't behind me- gulped and paled, while most of the Hunters had looks ranging from curious to content. Miranda caught my eye and nodded her approval, which I smiled at, while Cameron looked troubled at my actions.

The problem was, none of the Hunters knew who Miranda was -after all, none of us had called her by name- which led to a somewhat laughable problem.

"Hey, you too pretty to fight?" It was the same older Hunter, obviously trying to pick a fight with the one person who hadn't fought yet: Miranda. "Too delicate?"

_Uh-oh_. Miranda's eyes became even colder, and a small smile graced her lips, "Of course not, Hunter. Perhaps you would like to test my skill?"

"Damn right I would." The Hunter growled, "_Real_ women are _strong_. You're _pathetic_ and _weak_."

"You know, I'd think they'd be a bit more grateful and even-headed." I said as I caught Cameron's arm. He was probably going to break up the fight, but I kept him back, "I think this is a lesson they need to learn the hard way."

The "fight" only lasted a few seconds, and ended with the Hunter lying face-down on the ground with Miranda's knife embedded in her back. Some of the Hunters glanced at me, as if expecting Miranda to get the same treatment as Audrey did, but I didn't move, instead just having small talk with Cameron.

Miranda, after yanking out her knife, simply went back to where she was as if nothing had happened. Swordsmanship was over and we all headed for Canoeing, which was a lot quieter. Other than the Hunters directing a few surly glares at Miranda, nothing important happened until lunch. After pilfering food for the Hunters and scarfing down my own meal, I headed for Cabin Eight.

"Can I come in?" I called as I knocked on the door. This time, Thalia opened it without hesitation.

"Sure." Thalia stood aside and let me in, then turned and looked at me strangely, "So, who's the girl?"

I sighed, knowing exactly what she meant, "The young woman your idiot over there fought was Miranda Lytvyn. And no, we aren't romantically involved in any way. I warned you not to cross her, and your friend over there is very lucky Miranda didn't do something worse."

Thalia snorted, "Chiron wouldn't let anything worse than that happen!"

"Oh, sure, 'cause a mob beating's so much better." I shot back, "Chiron doesn't have power here anymore. And besides, for every one of you that says Miranda did this, there'll be a dozen campers that say she didn't. And I'd be one of them."

Thalia scowled, "That cold bitch!"

"Oh, Thalia, she's not just any bitch." I smiled, "Drew would be a cold bitch. Miranda's the most ruthless, mean, cunning bitch I know. We get along well."

Thalia frowned, obviously trying to think of a way to solve this problem. I laughed, "Don't even think about it, Thalia. She and I are the only things keeping you from harm. She's protecting you all, so you'd better either get used to mob beatings, or get used to her. I'd suggest you take the latter, 'cause she'll leave you alone most of the time. The campers'll never get bored of you, though."

"Did we actually . . . ?"

"Deserve it? Become ignorant of all the males you had killed here? Never apologized once for it? Didn't care whose friends you'd killed? Done that for thousands of years?" I glared at her, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. Lunch's over, by the way. Pegasus-Riding's next."

Leaving all of them shocked, I gathered up the plates and sent them to the kitchen before leaving for the stables.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

A few days passed before the next incident happened while I was walking to Archery. It was undoubtedly a girl's scream followed by a ripping of fabric. Breaking into I run, I turned the corner of the Hermes cabin before finding a couple of Ares brutes, along with Heracles, grabbing empousai Hunter. A sleeve was ripped off of her silver jacket, and the three males were leering at her in a way that couldn't be good. Thankfully, however, her jeans were still intact so none of those three knew what she was.

"I would stop this right now." I said the threat of violence an undertone to my words. The two brutes looked up when hearing my voice, then their eyes widened, "I believe Miranda and I clearly stated that these Hunters were not to be harmed."

"Yeah?" It was Heracles, of course, "And who're you?"

"Perseus Ekdíkisi." I replied, "Leave."

The two Ares campers scurried off, but Heracles just scowled, "You don't tell me what to do."

"Yes, I do." I summoned Shadow to my right hand and a throwing knife to my left. Heracles laughed, and his gigantic club appeared in his right hand. But I had no intention of getting close, instead taking careful aim and throwing the knife horizontally. My aim was true, the knife going between Heracles' legs and cutting through his jeans.

His eyes widened as a few things fell from his crotch area, and blood started flowing down his legs. Heracles, the great slayer of the Hydra, Nemean Lion, and the defeater of the Cretan Bull, fainted.

"Are you alright?" I held out my hand to the empousa, which she took.

"I'm fine, I think." She scowled at the fallen Heracles, "Better than him."

"Indeed. I thought you'd be a bit more distraught about what happened. That'll probably come later, though." I replied, bending down and picking up Heracles' genitals with a square of cloth, "I think I'll keep these. He should be unable to have children for a few centuries at least, if these parts don't fall into back into his hands."

"Why are you helping us?" she asked, "And why is your girlfriend doing the same?"

"Miranda isn't my- you know what? I'm not gonna bother with that." I shrugged, "Miranda and I are helping you because we want to. Because while your sisters definitely deserve to be punished, killing you all wouldn't do it. Have your sisters told you what I am yet?"

"They've told me you're a werewolf." The empousa replied cautiously.

"Tristan Dewolfe, at your service." I mock-bowed while we were walking back to Cabin Eight, "Just as you don't wish others to judge you by your . . . demon traits, I do not wish others to judge me as a werewolf. None of the campers here know what I am, and I plan to keep it that way, just as I'm sure you plan to keep them in the dark that you're a she-demon."

The empousa scowled, "Why don't you stop calling me that?"

"And what should I call you? We've never been introduced, and I don't really want to call you firebrand." I replied.

"Elysia." The empousa pulled open the door to Cabin Eight, "Call me Elysia."

With that, the door swung shut and I headed to my meeting with Miranda.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

Miranda was at the pair of chairs before I arrived, looking at her knife/dagger/ring that she always wore on her middle finger. "Perseus."

"Miranda."

"Declan is alive." My eyes snapped upwards to meet her's, "It looks like the gods were somewhat more sympathetic to him than you."

"Damn." I swore bitterly, "He still has Light, then. And where exactly did you hear that?"

"The small girl with silver hair. Aria." Miranda sneered at the name, "She let slip that Declan brought her to the Hunt. I am not aware if Ross is in any way affiliated with them, however."

I snorted, "The Hunt? Please. He probably went rogue or Roman."

"True."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, then I spoke up again, "You know a few days ago, when we talked about Chiron?"

Miranda nodded cautiously, so I continued, "I was thinking-"

"I'm surprised, Jackson. I didn't know you were capable of that.."

"Shut up, Miranda. Anyways, why would Chiron send someone with only a few days of experience on quest to retrieve one of the most powerful weapons of all time? The Master Bolt had to have been stolen by someone or something infinity more powerful than I was at that time." I leaned forward, "And why would Luke give the Bolt to Ares?"

The beautiful blonde nodded thoughtfully, "He could have just as easily killed you and kept the Bolt and Helm. That would have set off a massive war between the gods."

"And Kronos could've struck with both the Bolt and the Helm when they were at their weakest." I finished, "Something's off here."

"Do you honestly believe Chiron would send you to your death?" Miranda prodded.

I nodded absently, my mind not really registering on her question, "Yeah."

Miranda tilted her head back and laughed, the musical sound filling my ears, "I win, Jackson."

"You mean. . ? Ah, frak you, Lytvyn." My laughter joined hers as I realized she had played me.

Eventually, the laughter petered off, and neither of us had any real idea what to do, since there wasn't anything really left for Miranda to teach me. We kept coming each day, though. _And I'm definitely not complaining._

"So, how's your day been?" I asked, just for conversation.

Miranda shrugged gracefully, "You were with me most of the time, Perseus. We're in the same cabin, remember?"

"Are you sure? I thought you were in the God of Cold, Ruthless, Mean and Beautiful People's Cabin." I asked, "After all, we've only done things here for over forty days."

"Why, thank you for the compliment, Jackson. I know you wouldn't be able to get in." A smirk graced her lips, "What about you? Anything of note?"

I shrugged, "Eh, castrated Heracles and saved that empousa."

Miranda's eyes widened, "Do you know what you just did?"

"Um, yes? I cut off Heracles'-"

"Not that! The empousa." Now Miranda looked pissed, "What exactly did you save her from?"

"A pair of Ares campers and Heracles were probably gonna rape her." I shrugged carelessly, "And once they saw she's a monster, they would've probably killed her. Oh, shit."

"Use of vulgar language does seem to be appropriate here." Miranda replied, glaring at me, "She is massively in your debt. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah." I groaned. When there's a debt between a monster and a human, that monster usually does what the human asks. Between Quintus and Mrs. o' Leary, for instance. And since empousai are usually equated with succubi. . . . "Please tell me I don't have to sleep with her. Or have her as that kind of slave."

Miranda shrugged, "Not a clue. Your memories hold no answer?"

I shook my head, "Nope. A dozen Proctors ago, one of them had a Life Debt with a Cyclops, but the Judges had her kill the monster."

"What about Heracles?

"He won't be messing with either of us for a while." Malice filled my grin, "He might try and stir up some trouble, but I don't think he'll get anywhere."

"Good."

**A/N: Whenever you see hyperbolic words used by Percy or Miranda, it's politicking or something similar, like convincing Cameron as he did. Any idea where Phoebe is?**

**The Poll:**

**The Flight of the Ares: 11**

**The Broken: 10**

**Re-birth of a Rose: 10**

**Percy Jackson and the Department of the Anomalous: 9**

**The Unholy Trinity: 7**

**The Consortium and the Alliance: 6**

**Battlestar Galactica: Pre-emptive Strike: 0**

**Feedback is always appreciated, in whatever form it may be in. (Unless it's in the form of an axe-murderer visiting my house.)**


	9. Chapter 8- The Guardian and the Games

**A/N: Remember, Pheobe's alive. Why? 'Cause I want her to be. Oh, and sorry this chapter's so late.**

Chapter 8- The Guardian and the Games

* * *

**Time Skip: 15 Days (51 since Percy joined camp)**

**Percy's POV**

"Not yet" I shook my head as Miranda and I sat down in the two adirondack chairs. Or rather, the graceful blonde sat while I kind of _fell_. "The mob's gonna form again, and soon. I can feel it."

"I can as well." Miranda shook her head, her dark blond hair flowing with the movement, "Iron discipline breaks rather than cracks. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it has not already happened."

"It's going to break soon." I finished, "We need to be ready to disperse them."

"The Hunters know what they need to do if that arrangement of campers gathers again." Miranda pointed out, "They will be safe in the forest."

I snorted, "Almost two-hundred campers trying to find eight Hunters in a forest. I can guarantee the campers, inept as they are at tracking, will find at least _one_ of them."

"And you cannot shadow-travel them back-"

"Because to them, I don't have Shadow anymore." I sighed, "Somehow, I don't think revenge'll solve our problems this time."

Slowly, a malicious smile creep onto Miranda's face, "Why not? I still have the blows from the last beating. . . . ."

_Uh-oh_. "So I can handle Heracles while you're on crowd-control?"

"Precisely."

I nodded "Let's hope it-"

Before I finished my thought, I was rudely interrupted by a scream. Aria's scream, to be precise. I glanced at Miranda, who nodded, and we both raced off to find the source of the disturbance.

The eight Hunters were backed up against the lava wall, with maybe half the camp facing them. Heracles was smiling vindictively in the background, and judging by the fact that most of the campers were holding rocks, this beating was going to be a _lot_ more severe. One such rock had already been thrown, which resulted in the scream we heard earlier.

"_Stop_!" I shouted, but nothing happened. A few of them looked at the two of us and turned pale, but continued what they were doing. A volley of rock sailed at the Hunters, but I summoned a wall of shadow that deflected them, then summoned the blade itself. _This'll take some explaining to Artemis._ Miranda, for her part, turned to the crowd of demigods.

"Heracles, you can still walk away." I warned the arrogant god, who now had his club in his hands.

"From a puny demigod like you? Ha!"

I sighed, "So mote it be."

I charged him while there was a grunt, simultaneously, from all the demigods there. _So, Miranda, getting to work?_ Heracles' club sailed down at me, but I rolled to the side and slashed with Shadow. Heracles just laughed, "Is that the best you can do? I am the strongest demigod in history!"

"I don't doubt that, Hercules." I replied, then started playing with the shadows. At first, a few tendrils of darkness flew at him, but the god smashed them while I prepared my next attack. A volley of black arrows appeared as I lunged forward, but a swipe from Heracles destroyed them, and all I managed to do was cut him high in the arm. _I need a new strategy here._

Heracles swung down with his club again, and this time, I summoned a thick bar of shadows to stop it. No such luck, as the club plowed through them and threw me back.

Groaning, I picked myself up and, in doing so, grabbed a handful of sand, "Hey, tough guy, I'm not dead yet."

Heracles, who had rounded on Miranda, turned to face me again. Miranda was doing her part well, as I could see the crowd of demigods getting battered by invisible fists, boot, and -if my guesses were correct- rocks. Already, most of the crowd were sporting bruises, cuts, and broken bones in the same places the Hunters used to.

Heracles growled as he approached, "I'll deal with your bitch and set those Hunters straight after I tear _you _apart."

"Yeah, good luck with that." I goaded, "Just like you killed your _entire family_."

"That was _Hera_! She did it!"

"Yeah, sure, blame the gods." I mocked. Heracles, enraged now, charged at me like a Minotaur. I rolled to the side again, but Heracles was much, _much_ faster than the Minotaur and grabbed me before slamming me into the ground again.

"Looks like your _bitch_ isn't here to back you up again!" Heracles gloated, grabbing me by the throat and lifting me up.

Blackness edged around my vision, but I managed to get a few words out, "Look me in the eye and say that."

"As you wish, runt." Heracles lifted me up even further, glaring at me.

I smirked back, "Big mistake, beef head."

My left hand came up, grinding the sand into Heracles' eyes. Howling in pain, the god stumbled backwards, releasing me.

"What's going on here?!" It was a new voice, one I didn't recognize. A man in a black, hooded leather jacket was standing a few meters from me. There was a sword sheath on either side of his body, along with throwing knives lining a leather belt that held up black jeans.

"I don't know who you are," I began, "but I'd suggest either you leave, or you watch and let Miranda and I take care of business here."

"What, so you can just keep torturing the Hunters?"

I froze before speaking again, "I, along with Miranda, am doing my best to _protect_ the Hunters. Since this _Guardian_ appears to enjoy watching this happen, I saw it fit to remove him."

All of the person's features were in shadow, but I could clearly see a pair of glowing, golden eyes, then he lunged at me, drawing a blade that was the exact opposite of Shadow. _Light. Ross?_

I parried his thrust before slamming an overhead chop down, all thought of who he was vanished in the face of this threat. A whip of shadows cracked at him, but a sword of white something-rather cut through it. _That's defiantly Light, but when did he become so skilled with it?_

A slash nicked me in the arm, but the stranger was bleeding from a cut I scored on his thigh, "While we fight-"

He punched, cutting me off as I dodged away, then I continued, "The Hunters might-"

As soon as I mentioned the Hunters, the stranger forgot all about me, spinning to see that now, most of the campers were lying on the ground, groaning. The Hunters' eyes were sliding between three people: Miranda, the stranger, and me. They looked at Miranda with fear and respect, at me with joy and respect, and at the stranger with absolute horror and regret.

"Thalia, do you know this person?" I called out, taking the opportunity to strike while the man's back was turned. The tip of my sword was at his back, ready to thrust if need be.

Thalia nodded, the regret, horror, and sorrow never leaving her face, "I know him."

_That's good enough for me. I don't think this guy, whoever he is, would harm the Hunters_. "If I take my sword away from your back, do you promise not to hurt the Hunters or Miranda?"

"I give you my solemn word." Something in his voice sounded familiar, but for the life of my, I couldn't remember what. _I already know it's Declan Ross, so wouldn't it be his voice? Well, yeah, but how do we know it _is_ Declan? All this guy has is Light. He could've killed Ross and taken it for all I know._

"Thalia, will he hurt you?" I called, needing to be completely sure. _The Judges'll kill me if more Hunters die._

Thalia shook her head hesitantly, so I took Shadow away from his back and made it disappear before standing at Miranda's side. The man approached the Hunters, who were standing as still as statues. Some words were exchanged that I couldn't make out, then the man led them into the forest.

"So, that worked." I said, surveying the eighty-or-so still bodies of the campers.

"Yes, it did." Miranda deadpanned, then we both burst out laughing.

Once the laughter had died down and the campers started getting up, I spoke again, "What'd you do to them?"

"A few broken bones from the last mob beating, along with a plethora of assorted cuts and bruises." Miranda shrugged, "All the same, I'm exhausted."

"So am I. You know that guy in leather? He had Light, and he's good with it. When I had Shadow, we were pretty evenly matched."

Miranda's eyes snapped to my face, "Declan?"

I shrugged, "No idea. Jumping to conclusions now wouldn't be good for the future."

Miranda narrowed her eyes, "True, but Declan is still a possibility."

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, "You saw the way the Hunters looked at him."

"Fear. Regret. Sorrow."

"But not disrespect or contempt. They didn't see him as a lower form of life." _So what did he do to earn that?_

"The empousa and Aria weren't afraid of him, though. I could see comfort there. Love. Respect." Miranda turned, walking again.

"He has some power with the Hunt, and he has Light." I stated, "That kind of group could start a very dangerous guerrilla war, especially if Artemis joins them."

"They are skilled, but they are few and closely knit."

"Who?" I asked. We both knew what I was asking: Which Hunter, if killed, would have the greatest effect on morale.

"Aria." Miranda replied thoughtfully. _Killing her would hurt the stranger more than any others, most likely._

"All the same, this should be a last resort. Killing her won't endear the Romans to me, when the time comes."

"The Romans? They would not care about a Hunter." Miranda looked puzzled, obviously not having seen what I did.

"The Legion tattoo. Three years and a daughter of Mercury, I'm surprised you didn't notice." The Legion's marks couldn't be removed unless the owner of those marks died -which I did. Death makes all things void, including oaths on the Styx. "And I need to have a chat with the empousa, Elysia."

* * *

**Time Skip: 29 Days (80 since Percy joined Camp)**

**Percy's POV**

I leaned over and whispered a question into Miranda's ear, "What did you say this was again?"

Miranda sighed, "The Greco-Roman Games. Every year since Gaea was defeated, a bunch of Romans come here and we all have a friendly competition. Pegasus stunts, sword-fighting, javelin and discus throwing, foot-races. _But _-more importantly- a few of the wealthier families and Senators come as well."

Ever since the Hunt left, my reputation had grown throughout the camp. Now, they all feared me only a little less then the graceful dark blonde next to me. Now we were sitting in the Ampitheater while a bunch of Romans filed in next to the Greeks. The Olympians, twelve of them -including Hades, but Artemis was absent- were sitting around the fire. A few older statesmen were sitting in a covered area to the side, looking on with some interest.

Miranda pointed at one in particular, who wore a spotless white toga with a purple sash over it. The sash signified _imperium_, or the authority to command the forces of Rome. "That is Marcus Macintyre, one of the current consuls. Next to him is Lucas Carmen, one of the censors. Those are the only two players of note here today."

A hush settled on the crowd as Jason lead Piper to a seat. A few days after the Giant War ended, Piper decided she wanted to see New Rome without everything exploding, then decided to stay. Reyna brought up the rear, Frank probably stayed back at New Rome to oversee the rest of Legion. She sat on the other side of Jason, then Zeus cleared his throat.

"Two and a half years ago, an end was brought to a war that could've spelled the end for Westren Civilization." Zeus' voice boomed, "It was a war won by the bravery of the gods and their children, bringing down the most dangerous enemy in history: Gaea. Ever since then, we have, once during summer and once during winter, we celebrate peace between the Greeks and Romans. Without their decision to ally during the final battle, the victory of the gods would have no doubt be more difficult."

_Sure, don't mention us seven, would you? Do your best to take all the credit, why don't you?_ Zeus' speech was interrupted by the doors to the Amphitheater bursting open and eleven figures -clothed in silver- strode in.

"Artemis. I did not expect for you to come." With a wave of his hand, Zeus summoned a comfy silver chair at one end of the U shape around the crackling fire. The Hunters sat as far as they could away from the other demigods, and this time, Pheobe was among them, along with another new face. This one had brown hair and brown eyes, with somewhat low cheekbones and a small nose.

"What, and miss a chance to put all these _males_ back in their place? Please, father, how could I resist?" Artemis sat down, putting her hands behind her head.

"Where is the Guardian?" Zeus, now as Jupiter, asked. His words gave birth to hushed conversations among the crowd, with only Miranda, the Hunters and I remaining silent. Even Nico di Angelo, sitting in the front next to Will Solace, was talking.

"He'll be along." Artemis smiled in satisfaction as she surveyed the scene in front of her.

"Very well. As I was saying, the Greeks and Romans are united more than ever before, so we hold these Games-"

Jupiter was cut off as a blinding flash of light lit up the Ampitheater, then the doors broke off their hinges as an armored demigod was thrown backwards, landing in the fire. The same man in leather strode through, heading straight for the stage where the Olympians were. Weapons were drawn by the Greeks in the audience, but the Hunter drew and nocked arrows, taking aim. Miranda and I calmly watched this all, and I was waiting to create a shield of shadows between Miranda, myself and any arrows that might start flying.

Aphrodite was almost drooling over the man, who stood calmly behind Artemis' chair with his arms crossed and his hood shrouding his face in shadow. Artemis was smirking at the Greeks in the audience, as if daring them to challenge her "Guardian". But everyone either knew they didn't have a chance, or like Miranda and I, knew that challenging him would be pointless.

"Ah, the Guardian has arrived."

"Yes, I have, Jupiter." The golden eyes shown from under the hood, "Now, I believe you were talking about some games?"

_Oh, you're smarter than you look. Jupiter'll look weak now, appearing to follow your suggestion when it was his intention all along._ _I'll have to do something about that. . . _

Jupiter cleared his throat, "Moving on, there will be five days of competition hosted here at Camp Half-Blood. None of you are required to participate."

_Hmm, I could enter a few of the competitions, show myself to the big wigs in the Senate. It'll certainly help._ I caught Zoe's eye as we all stood, and jerked my head at the entrance. She nodded, knowing to stay there until I came.

Miranda and I were near the center of the pack, the crowd -consciously or unconsciously- keeping a little space between us and them. I took Zoe by the arm as we passed, cutting through the crowd and leaving Miranda behind.

"Anything new in Hebe?" I questioned once we were out of site and earshot, hopefully, "Sorry, I haven't gotten a good chance to ask in the last few days."

Zoe shook her head, "There is no change worth reporting to thee, else thou would have heard from me."

"You're probably right, but I need to go to the Judges, tell them about that golden-eyed swordsman in leather." I said. Zoe nodded, taking my hand as I shadow-traveled to the rear of the Judging Pavilion.

"Proctor. There have been developments?" Minos demanded.

"There is a man with golden eyes who wields Light with great skill. Enough to match me in a straight fight, although the match was short and I did not have time to get a feel for his style. He arrived in Camp Half-Blood with the apparent backing of the Hunt and it's mistress." I reported, "I ask whether I should kill him."

"Why haven't you already? Light is a powerful blade, and it's sheath makes the opponent even more dangerous." Minos growled.

"I have the sheath, but I am unsure as to _why_ I should kill him."

"You must kill any who stand in your way. Your mission is imperative, and no soul ranks above it." Minos ground out, "Thirty lashes for you, and ten for Zoe."

My eyes widened, but I kept silent, taking Zoe's hand and squeezing it lightly. This wasn't the first time she'd be whipped, but it would only be the second. In the past, though, she had to watch me be whipped.

The thin man strapped us both to the pole, leaving me bare-chested and Zoe in a bra. The whip cracked across my back, the first sample of the pain to come rioting around my body. I didn't even wince, and instead spoke loudly, "One."

"No, Proctor, you will count your friend's lashes, and she will count yours." I could hear the vindictiveness in Minos' voice.

Zoe spoke as the whip came down again, "Two."

"Three."

The thin man turned to Zoe, and the whip cracked across the pale, flawless skin of her back. She gasped, her eyes becoming wet, but not crying as I said the first of ten numbers, "One."

Three lashes for me, one for her. Just seeing her get whipped once hurt more all the lashes so far combined, but I knew what the Judges were doing. _Testing me. Or breaking me. Whichever result, I don't think the Judges would care._

"Thirty." Zoe sighed, tears running down her cheek, knowing it was over for me, and the thin man turned for the last time.

As the whip descended, I could count all nine lines of pain and suffering sketched across her back. When the whip finally made the last long welt, Zoe letting out a small scream of pain, "Ten. It's over, Zoe."

The thin man released us and gave us back our shirts, then I shadow-traveled us to her room. Once there, and out of sight of the Judges, Zoe began crying in earnest, tears now running freely. "I-I c-can-not d-d-do this. W-watching t-thee. . . ."

"I can't do anything else, Zoe." I sighed, my shoulders flashing in agony every time I made a move. But the pain was bearable, borne from experience.

Zoe sucked in a breath, visibly calming herself, "And why can thee not do anything? The Judges cannot control thy every move! We can get away. Go somewhere else."

_So this day's finally here, I knew it would come, but. . . . . I hoped it wouldn't. _"We can, can't we? Get out of here, run for it? The Judges'll know when and where I shadow-travel, so we'll just have to make a run for Orpheus' Passage."

Zoe nodded, now determined, then grabbed a few of her possessions. _If only she knew what'll happen. I've already tried to run, but maybe she can get out of here if I hold them -him- off for a while._

"I'll get near Cerberus, then you _run_. Promise me you'll get out, whatever happens. If you need money, you know where to get it. Run, and don't stop." Taking her hand before any more words could be spoken, I summoned Shadow and shadow-traveled us right next to Cerberus. The massive three-headed dog growled at me, but Mrs. o' Leary was next to him, and she recognized me. With the giant hellhound's barks in the background, the two of us tore into a run.

I knew where Orpheus' Passage came out, between Elysium and Persephone's Garden, and a few miles away from where we are now. Soon, though, I heard more barks behind us, these from a pack of hellhounds, being led to us by the thin man. They were far behind us, but I knew they'd catch up before we could reach the Passage.

The Passage was one mile away, the pack of hellhounds maybe half that behind us. I spun, letting go of Zoe's hand, "Go. I was never going to escape."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

A hellhound dragged me, barely conscious with my body broken and bleeding, into the Judging Pavilion.

"Now, Proctor, surely you realize that you cannot escape from our service?" Minos asked.

I grinned weakly, and whispered, "Zoe. She got away, didn't she?"

"That is unfortunate, yes, but we will find her in time." The dead King of Crete admitted, "And perhaps you will be the one to end her."

"Never." I raised my head, one eye to swollen to open, the other black. "You will _never_ kill her."

Minos glanced at the other two Judges, "He is ready, I believe. Bring Shadow and the Catholicon."

The thin man, who was standing beside me, forced my mouth open and poured the light golden liquid in. I swallowed, feeling my bones straighten and cuts fade before grabbing Shadow, "Ready for what?"

"To appoint new Judges, of course." _What? _"Step forward and strike me down. I know you wish to, for all the suffering we have forced upon you."

Rage welled up inside me, replacing the resignation that filled me before. Raising Shadow, I loped off Minos' head, and did the same to George Read. Machiavelli raised a hand, making me stop, "Proctor, hold."

He reach upward, taking off his golden mask and exposing his face to me. Niccolo Machiavelli looked like he was in his late fifties or early sixties, with black hair combed neatly and no beard or mustache. His eyes, though, were cold and calculating, but looked at me with interest, as if I was a favored son. Reaching under the table, he withdrew a moderately small box before holding it out to me.

"Take this, and read what it contains. You will need the knowledge if the plan comes to fruition." Machiavelli sighed as I took the wooden box from his hand, "Now, put me to my rest. It has been too long in coming."

I nodded, but hesitated. _Should I really . . . he wants me to . . . _My hands took action on their own, Shadow arcing down to remove the last Judge from his head. Niccolo's body -just like Minos' and Read's- disappeared, leaving me with the small container. Looking at it, I could see it was a very simple thing, wooden and without a hinge, just meant to keep it's contents away from the wear and tear of handling.

Going back to my room, I sat down and opened it. On the top was a letter, parchment in a modern white envelope:

_Perseus Jackson,_

_ If you are reading this, there is be no one to turn to for instruction. The task we have put you to was not meant for you, rather for the Proctor of whichever time was deemed best. That time is now. After two wars, Olympus is weaker now than it has for many years. I believe you are wondering what is gained by overthrowing the gods, and I believe I would be wondering the same, if I was in your situation. Since we, the Judges, are quite obviously gone from this world, you must know that this is for no personal gain. Rather, to correct centuries of injustice. First and foremost, Perseus, I am a Judge. The three of us have ruled that the time of the Olympians is drawing to a close. For millenia, the gods have imposed themselves on the world; They have an unfounded hate of the monstrous and Titan kind, something which cannot be borne. Take Mrs. o' Leary or Sasha, both loyal to you, yet the gods would kill them without a second thought. Many monsters have no need to kill, to eat demigods. And yet, the Hunt and the two camps relentlessly slaughter them. The Pack has no need to draft members as they have been, but they have been locked in a struggle with the Hunt for millenia as well. The gods, as you are no doubt able to tell, would be able to end the Pack or aid the camp in the destruction of the monstrous, but they do not. For the Olympians do not have the strength to defend themselves if Camp Jupiter, Camp Half-Blood, or the Hunt sees the corruption that teems under the surface of Olympus. The gods -excepting Artemis and many of the so-called minor gods- keep the monsters and the camps immersed in a bitter struggle with no possible victory for either side; they do the same with the Hunt and the Pack, ensuring their rule over all. Kronos is no better; he cannot be an ally to you. Many of the Titans could, however, not Hyperion nor Atlas._

_ Let us look at your own life, Perseus. I have heard your conversations with the daughter of Nemesis, Miranda Lytvyn, and there is truth in her statement of Chiron. Ask Luke -currently residing in Asphodel, despite your request of the gods- about your first year at Camp Half-Blood. As for the search for the Golden Fleece, have you noticed how Chiron "arrived" at the last possible second? And that, as he said to you during the final assault of Olympus, that Centaurs could bend distances? In reality, Chiron was waiting until all hope seemed lost before stepping in. At that time, on the Princess Andromeda, there were a total of thirty monsters, and seventeen Centaurs. Chiron had the force necessary to take the ship, despite his claims to the contrary. Moving onward, he only allowed you and four others to rescue a goddess from a force strong enough to easily capture an Olympian. Atlas could have very easily overwhelmed Artemis, should Zoe not have sacrificed herself for her mistress. And yet, despite the goddess spending centuries with Zoe as her Lieutenant, Artemis shed no tears over her death. At best, she was a toy of Artemis, a tool. A useful one, perhaps, but a pawn just as all other demigods are, excepting two: You, Perseus, and Zoe Nightshade. Needless to say, this behavior, in both the gods and your teacher, Chiron, continued until you died, and for a very targeted purpose: To manipulate you. To make you see them as fearless, to make them trust you. At the time, you attributed Artemis not tearing up as bravery and resolution, but it was neither. Artemis did not care for her Hunter any more than you would care for your axe. A useful tool, but no more._

_ Those are a few incidents out of thousands. The gods and goddesses have, since their creation, viewed mortals as sources of amusement and bodily pleasure, much as the Titans did before then. Despite what the gods and Chiron have said, no Titan desires human flesh or suffering. The Olympians are nearer to the Titans than they would care to admit, and they prevent demigods from connecting the dots, always distracting those at the camps with quests and monsters. We, I, do not want to overthrow the Olympians for personal gain, but for justice, if there is such a thing. To end the decadence and debauchery that Zeus thrives on. You could take the throne for yourself, and should you defeat Ladon, you could hold that throne for a very long time, perhaps even with Ms. Lytvyn ruling by your side. _

_ Now, you must appoint new Judges, three of them of course. This has happened perhaps seven times throughout history, all three Judges retiring at once. It is much more common for a singular Judge to retire, but that is not important. I have added a list of candidates for your convenience, but I must also tell you of another change: As we have all retired, our power passes to you, and you will delegate that power to the new Judges. Most of it is not useful, within combat or otherwise. You can read the memories of the recently dead, authorize rebirths and the like. As well, you have the authority to command all hellhounds and our thin servant. In addition, you have the skills of many spirits at your disposal, namely Daedalus. Do not hesitate to go to him. All spirits must answer your call, and you are able to summon them much as Nico is able to. If you command a spirit, they must obey. Arai must also heed your words, as they are creatures of a spirit's last curse, and thus created by death and can be controlled, which is slightly more useful in combat._

_ Now, lastly, you should read the book underneath this letter. It is one of the original copies of The Prince, excepting for the fact that I took some liberties as the author, and tailored it to this situation. If a bit narcissistic, The Prince will be extremely helpful in Roman politics, and even on Olympus. In addition, you will find my personal journal, may it be useful as well. Remember, there is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things. You will be at the head of a revolution, Perseus, do not hesitate to do what needs to be done. You will have the power of the mob behind you; use it._

_ Niccolo di Bernardo dei Machiavelli_

Sighing, I replaced the letter before pulling out a worn, leather-backed book with _The Prince_ written in gold on the front cover. Inside, on the table of contents, were a few extra chapters that were hand-written in, no doubt for this current situation. Under that was a sheaf of paper, parchment, and vellum, Machiavelli's journal. Glancing at my watch, I realized I had spent a good two hours down here, which meant I had less than fifteen minutes to sign up for the Games, or I wouldn't be able to compete at all.

Frantically, I shadow-traveled up to Camp Half-Blood before running to the Big House, where Chiron was arranging everything. I was the last in a short line of people, most of the others no doubt having signed up before hand. The line passed quickly, leaving me to sign up for Swordsmanship, Spear-Fighting, Knife-Fighting, Wrestling, and Swimming. Discus, Archery, and Javelin-Throwing were some other options, but signing up for five competitions would make me busy enough, and while I was passably competent with a bow, I didn't have nearly the Hunt's level of mastery.

Now that step was done, so -after going to a very secluded part of the forest- I shadow-traveled back to the Underworld, to the Fields of Asphodel in particular. Taking out Machiavelli's journal, which I never put back, I looked at the first name on the list, George Jeffreys. _Now, how do I summon you? Calling your name? Willing it into existence?_

I decided on the simplest manner of making contact, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering. Show me George Jeffreys, in the Fields of Asphodel."

A face shimmered into existence, with long, thick brown hair, black eyes, and a large nose.

"Are you George Jeffreys, former Lord Chief Justice of England?" The figure nodded, "Then I, as the Proctor, command you to go to the entrance to the Fields of Asphodel with all speed necessary to get there in thirty minutes. Don't be late."

Setting my watch for thirty minutes, I headed for Elysium. The ghosts parted for me until I reached a fountain, into which I threw another drachma, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering and show me Isaac Charles Parker, in Elysium."

He had snowy white hair and a thick mustache/beard along with black eyes and a largish nose, "You are Isaac Parker, former District Judge?"

Parker nodded, much like Jeffreys did, so I continued, "Come to the Gates of Elysium in ten minutes."

I cut the connection, then made one more call, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering. Show me Matthew Begbie, in Elysium."

The figure in this IM had a salt-and-pepper beard, little hair hidden by a flat-topped hat, and clutched a pipe, "You are Sir Matthew Baille Begbie, former Chief Justice of the Crown Colony of British Columbia?"

Exactly the same as Jeffreys and Parker, Begbie nodded. _Weird._ "Come to the Gates of Elysium in seven minutes."

_Let's see . . . Parker and Begbie'll come at the same time, roughly in six minutes, then Jeffreys will arrive a good ten minutes after that._

The Gates of Elysium were huge, white, and pearly, but obviously designed with form in mind over the possibility of defense. _After all, who would bother protecting a bunch of dead guys?_ Something was tugging at my mind, something I desperately needed to do, but for the life of me -or rather, second life, I couldn't remember what. Soon enough, Isaac Parker arrived.

"Parker."

The man nodded, "That's me."

"I need to appoint new Judges, and wish to use you as an intern Judge in the meantime before I decide on the three spirits to last until they retire." I said, "Interested?"

"Perhaps, if the position is only temporary, until you may find a more suitable Judge." Parker looked at me, interested.

"It will be, only a few months at most." I replied.

"I believe those term are acceptable." Parker held out his hand, which I shook before he left and Begbie approached.

"You're Begbie?" I asked, to confirm once again.

"Who else would I be?" Begbie replied, "Why have you called me here?"

"I need new Judges, and I need intern Judges so I have time to make the decisions." I stated, "I'd like you to be one of them."

"Only if I can have that post permanently." Begbie replied, "Gets boring 'round here."

"Sorry, can't do that."

"Then no deal. You make me a full Judge, and you'll be hard-pressed to find someone more dedicated, but I want the position." Begbie affirmed.

I nodded, filing that away for future reference, and stuck out my hand, "My apologies, then, and good day."

He took my hand in a strong grip before turning away. Looking at my watch, I saw I had just about a minute left before I had to meet Jeffreys, so I shadow-traveled to the entrance of Asphodel, which was really just an opening in a wooden fence. Daedalus' work was apparent, multiple overpasses and underpasses easing congestion, but I didn't bother with the crowds. Jeffreys was waiting there, a few seconds early at least.

"Jeffreys?"

"I am he who you speak of." Jeffreys confirmed.

"I need a few people to temporarily judge the spirits and sort them into Punishment, Asphodel, and Elysium." I said, like it was an order all but in name, "I'd like you to be one of them."

"Of course." Jeffreys bowed, "Your wish is my command."

"Good." _Well, that was easy._

Checking Machiavelli's journal, I looked at the fourth name on the list: Roland Freisler, Punishment. Summoning a light mist of water next to me, I threw a fourth drachma inside, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me Roland Freisler, in the Fields of Punishment."

Freisler was balding at the top of his head, still with black hair at the sides, though. He looked rather disinterested with the world around him, and was in his early fifties.

"Come to the gates in five minutes." I ordered, my voice brooking no possible argument. If he was in Punishment, I needed to establish myself as being much more powerful than him. _Which I am, after all._

The Gates of Punishment were heavy, Stygian Iron affairs with a high stone wall to either side, clearly meant to keep spirits inside. I shadow-traveled inside, taking my first look at the barren wasteland that was the Fields of Punishment, dotted by lava spraying into the air from small volcanoes. _Ha, looks like Mordor._

A few minutes later, a man in an orange prison jumpsuit came up, looking distinguished despite his attire and surroundings, "You are the current Proctor, correct?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, and you were the State Secretary of the Reich Ministry of Justice and the President of the People's Court."

"I am very aware of that, thank you, and I accept the intern position you were about to offer." Freiser held out his hand, which I shook. "Well-met."

_That was odd._ Turning away, I shadow-traveled back to my room, but I wasn't alone in there. Leaning against the wall was Miranda, poised as always, and holding a white sheath in her hands.

* * *

**A/N: I doubt any of you will bother to look up those four Judges (I know I wouldn't). They all exist, though, and they're all known as "Hanging Judges", referring to their propensity for death sentences.**

**Please review, even though this chapter's pretty late.**


	10. Roman Politics for Dummies

**A/N: I'm doing most of this off the top of my head and from an set of Latin History notes I took for school, so you have my deepest apologies if any of it is wrong. If you notice mistakes, please tell me _immediately._ Oh, and don't take anything you've read in Rick Riordan's books or anything that seems like common sense as facts; Riordan kinda screwed up royally in the Roman portion. Allow me to explain: A "Centuria", or a Century as we would call it, has around 80 men and a Centurion commanding it. A Cohort has approximately 6 Centuries, or 480 men, making it more than double the size of the Twelfth "Legion". An actual legion has around 4800 men, which means 10 Cohorts, or 60 Centuries. The 4800 doesn't include non-combatants. And, of course, Julius Caesar _wasn't_ assassinated inside the _pomerium_ (there was no such thing as the Pomerian Line until Riordan made it up). I'm not insulting Riordan, he's an amazing author, I just feel he could've done some research. He made it a lot harder for me to put a Senate in New Rome that makes sense (i.e., not a bunch of sixteen year-olds screwing around, but a bunch of older statesmen who know what they're doing).**

Everything You Need To Know:

**Senate: 339 members as of current place in timeline.**

**Ten Second Version (Read this if you're lazy or impatient): **The Freethinkers are liberals, and currently hold the majority. The Centrists are moderates. The New Roman Libertarian Front is new, and libertarian. The Fundamentalists are solid conservatives.

Quaestors are money-managers, Tribunes are representatives, Aediles are commissioners, Praetors are judges, Honorary Praetors are commanders, Consuls are generals, Censors take the census, and the Dictator is the big guy/girl on top. The Comitias elect these guys.

**A Brief History of Recent Roman Politics:**

A while ago, the Centrists were in power. Then, Octavian entered the Senate as part of the Fundamentalists and used his skills to depose the Centrists. The Titan War broke out, forcing the government of New Rome to borrow a bunch of money from banks. The Titan War ended, the Giant War began, forcing the government to borrow even more money. Octavian was presumed dead after the onager shot, and the Fundementalists fractured, about a third of their number flocking to a new banner: The New Roman Libertarian Front. Currently the Freethinkers, are in control of the Senate and are racking up even greater debt with social programs and a larger government.

**New Rome Political Parties**

Freethinkers (111)- Far left liberals, this group has been in power ever since Octavian was presumed dead. Due to their social programs and the cost of the two wars, they brought the government into very deep debt. They favor a larger government with more power.

Centrists (85)- Solid moderates, this party was in power for many years _before_ Octavian joined the Senate. Very concerned with keeping things as they were, Octavian's charisma and oratory skills wrested the power from them. Centrists favor a middle-sized government with some powers.

New Roman Libertarian Coalition (NRLC) (37)- A fairly new party, having existed ever since Octavian died, the NRLC hasn't been in power yet. They are more economically conservative and socially liberal, but usually work with the popular movements. They favor a somewhat smaller government than the Centrists, with less power.

Fundamentalists (74)- Far right conservatives, this group was in power prior to Octavian's presumed death. After he "died", the New Roman Libertarian Front, which was formerly a part of the Fundamentalists, split off and became their own party. The Fundamentalists favor a much smaller government with far less power.

Independents (12): These Senators vote however they think is "right" or will give them positive publicity. With no loyalties and no real consistency, nobody likes them.

**Terms**

_Imperium_\- the command of Roman troops. Dictatorial _imperium_ supersedes Consular _imperium_, which supersedes Praetorian, which supersedes Aedilian. Those with _imperium_ are assigned _lictors_, and can sit in the curule chair when exercising their _imperium._

_Lictor_\- A bodyguard that carries _fasces_. Are assigned to those with _imperium_.

_Fasces_\- Bundles of sticks that can be used to beat citizens who were too slow to get out of the way of an _imperium_-wielding Senator. In times of Martial Law or outside of the Pomerian Line, an axe is added to the bundle, which means the _lictor_ holding them or the Senator who the _lictor_ is assigned to can execute anyone he encounters. Mostly ceremonial in New Rome, although they grew to be more needed after Terminus was moved to Olympus and thus unable to enforce the no-weapons rule inside of the Pomerian Line. . .

Curule- a ceremonial chair that only those with _imperium_ can sit it. It isn't important at all.

**Electing Bodies:**

Comitia Tributa- Translated to Council of the Tribes, the Comitia Tributa is made up of the entire citizenry of New Rome (not the Legion, however it includes Senators). They are divided into thirty-five groups (called Tribes), all equal in every way possible (gender, amount of money, position). Each group has one vote, and they elect Quaestors and Curule Aediles. Other than that (in my story), they have no power.

Comitia Plebis- Translated to Council of the Plebeians, the Comitia Plebis is made up of only the citizenry of New Rome that identifies as Plebian (still no Legionnaires, but includes Senators). They are divided into thirty groups (called Curia), all equal in every possible way (again). Each group has one vote, they elect Tribunes and Aediles Plebis, and can pass laws governing the Plebeians.

Comitia Centuriata- Translated to Council of the Centuries, the Comitia Centuriata is made up of the entire citizenry of New Rome (not including the Legion, but includes Senators). They are divided into one-hundred different groups (called Centuries), arranged by the wealth and power of the people in it (The wealthiest and most powerful are part of the first Century, and it goes on), and thus, the Centuries aren't equal in numbers of people in them. Each Century gets one vote, they elect Consuls, Praetors, and Censors, and can declare war.

**Senatorial Positions:**

**Position (# of them at a time)- Description**

Quaestor (10)- Elected by the Comitia Tributa, they manage the Republic's treasury. This doesn't prevent a bit of money-laundering and/or stealing from the Treasury, however. After all, it takes a _lot_ of money to be a Senator. In the late days of the Republic and the early days of the Empire, there were 20 quaestors, ten Patricians and ten Plebeians. I've downsized it to five Patricians and five Plebeians.

Tribune (5)- Elected by the Comitia Plebis, they represent the Plebeians and stop any legislation too "Patrician" from being passed. They have the power of veto, and can veto _anything_. If there's an official Senate they don't like, they can stop it. If there's even a court proceeding they don't like, they can stop the process. In addition, they are sacrosanct, meaning if anyone harms them while their in office, _all_ the Plebs will rise up together and kill -without penalty- whoever wronged the Tribune. This is a very powerful and coveted position. I've also downsized this post from ten to five.

Curule Aediles (2)- Elected by the Comitia Tributa, these officials can be either Patrician or Plebeians (mostly Patricians), and commission public buildings, Roman festivals, games, markets, etc, usually out of their own pocket as well. As Senators today in general aren't as rich as Senators were back during the Empire or Republic, the Aediles can't fund very much, only the occasional triumph and such. Most gladiator or chariot games are funded by a group of Senators completely independent from the Aediles, whereas in the olden days, Aediles would also host entertainment. This is a position often skipped on the _Cursus Honorum_. They have _imperium_, two _lictors_, and serve one-year terms.

Aediles Plebis (2)- Elected by the Comitia Plebis, they assist the Tribunes in occasion with their duties, but mostly fill the same role as the Curule Aediles. These Aediles can only be Plebeians, however, and cannot sit in the curule chair. This is a position often skipped on the _Cursus Honorum_. They do not have _imperium_ or _lictors_, and serve one-year terms.

Praetor (8)- Elected by the Comitia Centuratia, these are basically judges with a side-line of military command. In this story, they're sorted into two catagories: Praetors and Honorary Praetors. The regular Praetors handle judicial matters for the most part, but step in for a while if one of the Honorary Praetors resigns, dies or is otherwise unfit for duty. The Honorary Praetors are those who command the Legion on the field (Reyna, Jason, Percy for a time, etc.), and elected by the Legion. They do not have a vote in the Senate and are not elected by the Comitia Centuratia. There are six Praetors and two Honorary Praetors, adding up to the eight. They all have _imperium_, six _lictors _apiece (only two are allowed inside the Pomerian Line at a time), and serve one-year terms.

Consul (2)- Elected by the Comitia Centuratia, these command the Legion more generally in strategy, while the Honorary Praetors command them from the field. In a sense, the Consuls handle the whole military campaign, while Praetors handle individual battles. They switch off _imperium_ every month, have twelve _lictors _apiece and serve one-year terms.

Censor (2)- Elected by the Comitia Centuratia, these guys take the census, oversee public morality (what's allowed in public), they also oversee the police (not originally, I just added that in), and supervise a few parts of the Treasury. One must be Plebeian. No _imperium _or _lictors_, and are elected for one-year terms.

Dictator (1)- Nominated by the Consuls with Senate approval, this guy has _absolute_ power. He can overrule, depose or put to death other Senators with_ imperium_, has the highest _imperium_, and twenty-four _lictors_. This is a position that someone is elected to only in a last-case scenario or if huge, sweeping changes needed to be made. (To appease a rebellion, put down a rebellion, command soldiers, the like.). In addition, a dictator can have a few ceremonial duties (holding elections) or religious duties. A dictator is elected very, very, rarely. They have _imperium_, twenty-four _lictors_, and serve a six-month term, after which they _must_ step down.

**Cursus Honorum (Course of Honor):**

**Patrician Side:**

Quaestor to Aedile to Praetor to Consul

**Plebeian Side**

Quaestor to Tribune to Aedile to Praetor to Consul

*Dictators and Censors are kinda off to the side of the Cursus Honorum, although a per-requisit for either of these roles is a former Consulship.

**A/N: Congratulations, if you made it all the way through. You don't need to know this all by heart, it's just helpful. And wow, this ended up being _way_ longer than I thought it would be.**


	11. Chapter 9-The Greco-Roman Games Day One

**A/N: You know, the PJO movies are actually fanfictions. Definition: "fiction written by a fan of, and featuring characters from, a particular TV series, movie, etc." They (the producers) took the cast and setting of the book, along with a few of the events, then changed them in a whole bunch of ways until it isn't the original story anymore. So, it's a fanfiction.**

Chapter 9- Greco-Roman Games: Day One

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"So, Perseus, what is this?" Miranda tossed the white sheath over, which I caught, "And I would suggest you find a better hiding place for something _that_ dangerous to the plan than under a bed."

I flipped the sheath in my hand, now holding it by the narrow end, "Yeah, you're probably right. Sign up for any competitions?"

"Knives." Miranda replied, "I will be spending much of my time endearing myself to a certain political family."

"Ah, for your Bureaucracy job? How are you planning to do it?"

Miranda smiled, exposing her perfect teeth, "Why, by approaching the patriarch, of course. He has another daughter, and that one has the reputation of drinking and sleeping around. The man _would_ disown her, but for the fact that if he did, his line would end, as his wife died four years ago."

"Adoption?" At my question, Miranda nodded, "What can I say? Great minds think alike."

"That they do." Miranda acknowledged, "The "Guardian" of the Hunt is in the Sword-Fighting tournament only, and as I believe I am correct in guessing this is the sheath of the Sword of Light. . ."

"I could use it to get to Artemis, and get _exactly _who and what this "Guardian" is." I finished, "And maybe have a chat with that _empousa_, Elysia. Good idea."

"Did you expect it not to be? And _must_ you have signed up for Swimming?" Miranda asked, sounding upset, but I knew it wasn't serious, "Now those of my gender are going to be gawking at you like fools."

I shrugged, chuckling, "That's what most of them are, along with many in my gender as well."

"Have a good rest, Perseus, I would hate for you to look even more incompetent as usual come the first day of the games." Miranda said, a mocking smirk adorning her flawless features.

"And I would hate to disappoint you, Ms. Lytvyn." I bowed as she left the room, then took the sheath in my hands again. _I'll give _a _sheath to that "Guardian", but I'd be an idiot to give him the original._

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Daedalus?!" I called, standing in a building that was marked in Machiavelli's journal as his abode.

Daedalus looked exactly like Quintus did, with sandy hair and a well-muscled body, "Proctor. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Let's dispense with the pleasantries -or unpleasantries- and get down to business." I tossed him the sheath, "I need you to make a replica of this as soon as possible."

Daedalus looked over it with an obviously practiced eye, "Including the effects of carrying this sheath?"

_I knew there was something on the sheath._ "No, Daedalus, although I would appreciate knowing what those effects are. Oh, and I need you to put something else on the copy. . ."

I told him what I wanted, and he nodded, "I'll have it to you by tomorrow afternoon."

"Very well." I respectfully nodded back to him before shadow-traveling back to the overworld, for lack of a better term of the surface.

It was well past curfew, but I didn't mind. The cleaning harpies would attack _campers_, not the lithe black wolf that was sneaking towards Cabin Eight. Almost as soon as it was in eyesight, I noticed a figure in black in a tree nearby, keeping watch. _Good, they aren't completely incompetent. If they let their guard down in a camp full of the people who mob-beat them_, _I might've taken the opportunity to reduce their numbers to ten once again._

Knowing that while I _might_ be able to win a fight between him and I, either outcome would result in questions beings asked about why I was out after curfew. _Besides, he has either the audacity or confidence -and I'm pretty sure it's the latter- to disrespect Zeus._

My work wasn't done yet, leading me back down to the Underworld, into Asphodel. According to Machiavelli, a certain son of Hermes spent his time brawling with other people who fought just to keep themselves from forgetting who they were in the endless plains of Asphodel. They were easy to find, a ring of men and women shouting as Luke, coincidentally, was fighting a burly older women

I ambushed him after he won and left the ring, "Luke Castellan, I need a word."

His eyes narrowed as I led him away, but he couldn't refuse. "What?"

Surprisingly -or rather, unexpectedly- I didn't feel any animosity towards Luke at all. One of the intentional parts of the re-birth was wiping the slate in terms of a Proctor's prior feeling to a person, "I need know anything you do about Percy Jackson's first year at Camp Half-Blood."

Luke sneered, looking every bit the enemy he used to be, "I took an oath on the Styx-"

"Rendered irrelevant by death." I cut him off, "I _command_ you, on the authority of the Proctor of Judgment with the power of the Judges, to tell me."

"Well, then, we'd better sit down, 'cause it's quite a tale." Luke replied, gesturing to the dirt ground. "You see, Percy's first quest wasn't all it was cracked up to be. In fact, Chiron put the guy in a tough place. He should've died on that quest, actually."

"Go on."

"If you insist. You see, Chiron was playing a very dangerous game. That old horse knew the tensions between the Big Three were ratcheting up, so he told me to steal the Bolt and the Helm, knowing that Poseidon had a son that would be turning eleven soon. Chiron even went to Percy's school to make sure he got to camp in one piece. Then, after he had me summon that hellhound to force Poseidon to claim Percy, he sent Percy on a quest." Luke sighed.

"Who in their right mind would send a completely new camper on a quest to retrieve two of the most _powerful_ items in existence, which had to have been stolen by someone with _more_ enough cunning or strength to kill a trio of uppity campers?" Luke paused to take a breath, "Kronos had helped me steal the Bolt and Helm in the first place, although I didn't know until later. Going back to his quest, I didn't stay at camp. Instead, by Chiron's orders, I made the quest easier for Percy. -throwing the Furies off his trail after the bus incident, making sure that Enchida would let him escape, etc."

I raised an eyebrow. _This could shed a lot more light on things I didn't have an answer to._

"They crossed the USA pretty easily, compared to my quest, and escaped the Underworld using the pearls I had charmed that nymph into giving them. Then, they came upon Ares, which was where my _real_ contribution came in. The Bolt and Helm that I gave to Ares? They were both covered in poison, weakening Ares enough that Percy could beat him." Luke's eyes met my own.

"Can you see how brilliant Chiron's plan was? Imagine, the son of Poseidon dying valiantly in battle to retrieve the symbols of Zeus' and Hades' power. The culprit, Ares, already identified and easily hunted down, the Bolt and Helm returned to their owners, and everything's mended between the Big Three. That was if Percy died, which he didn't. You see, Chiron fully expected him to die, poisoning Ares was my own idea. I liked the kid back then, can't fault me for that. Anyways, if Percy lived or died there, the result would still be what Chiron hoped for. That manipulative old horse played all the sides there, and was completely willing to let someone die for the greater good of the gods. So, when Kronos spoke to me, I remembered Halcyon Green, and listened."

I whistled, "Quite a story."

Luke shrugged, "I thought so too. Pity no one listens."

"Well, Mr. Castellan, as enlightening as this conversation was, I need to leave and maybe see a certain centaur thrown out of Camp Half-Blood." I clapped Luke on the shoulder before shadow-traveling back to my room in the Nemesis Cabin and falling asleep. Tomorrow would be a long day. . .

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The first thing I did in the morning was procure myself a set of Imperial Golden Roman equipment, using less than savory methods to do so. _The Armory's not gonna miss them. They have plenty of this stuff. _The set was a big, rectangular Legionnaire's shield, a _gladius_, a _pugio_, and a _pila_, putting them all in my room at the Nemesis Cabin. _Perfect_. The next thing I did was check on Daedalus, who said he'd have in done in a few hours. _Also on schedule. _Lastly, I went and got myself a black swimsuit. I hadn't swam in about half a year now, and my old swimsuit . . . well, there wasn't much left of it when the sea-serpent threw it up.

Once that was done, I headed for breakfast, where I -as usual, now- was the first to arrive, gathering a bowl of cereal, some toast, some more cereal, and a banana. Plenty of carbs for a day that would take a _whole_ lot of energy. The campers filtered in later, along with most of the Romans, including Jason. The older Senators didn't show, then the Hunt arrived as one huge pack, with Artemis and the man in the lead. Artemis sat at the head of Cabin Eight's table, with the Hunters fanning out on either side and the man leaning up against a pillar at the edge of the Pavilion. Curiously, they all looked at the man, who sighed and said, "What do you want?"

Orders were instantly heaped upon him by the Hunters, and even Artemis, and their requested food appeared right in front of them. _Hmm. The only goddess I've seen who has something like that power is Hestia, and she's a maiden goddess. A blessing of some kind?_

Seeing the other campers staring at him, I decided to have a little fun with the so-called "Guardian of the Hunt", who had summoned a piece of pizza -for breakfast- and started eating it, only for the slice to disappear. I had shadow-traveled it into the fire in the Nemesis, sending a message to her while I did it. Frowning, there was a flash of fire as the man summoned another slice, only to have it disappear as well. These incidents were not lost on the campers, who started laughing at him as the man tried yet a _third_ time to eat some pizza. Even some of the Hunters were laughing at him now, although Artemis had her eyes narrowed, looking around.

I nudged Miranda, who turned to face me, "Reminds me of Tantalus."

Miranda smiled as she glanced at the eclipse symbol in my right palm, obviously knowing what was going on, "Indeed, although Tantalus' reputation could not have gotten any lower, according to the stories I have heard."

I snorted with laughter, "That's true. Oh, I think the competition -and since you have to disassociate yourself with me- might interfere with our meetings."

Miranda nodded, "A shame. I enjoyed them."

Taking a break from shadow-traveling the man's pizza -and knowing that he was a laughing stock by now- I let him eat his pizza. There were no traces that I was involved in any way -after all, a slice of pizza didn't look like it was shadow-traveling, even if it was going through it's own shadow. Once the man finished the slice and summoned another, I did the same thing, sending it to the fire yet again, and the man scowled before just leaning there, keeping watch over the Hunters.

_Well, well, he's at least smart enough not to complain or try again. I wonder if he's in any competitions?_ For these five days, there weren't any cabin activities. Instead, everyone watched the competitions, Swimming being held first. Most of the crowd here headed down to the lake, where several lines of rope and plastic stretched across a small portion of it, six lanes in all. Quickly changing so that the swimsuit was under my black jeans and bomber jacket, I headed out for the lake as well.

The first six contenders were Zoe, three more Greeks, and two Romans I didn't recognize. Just seeing her reminded me that she still thought I was a slave to Minos, which I wasn't anymore. Zoe won, probably because of her natural affinity for water -daughter of Pleione and all that. I joined the other contenders, maybe a dozen campers and an equal number of Romans. _Yeah, like a Hunter would ever get into something so indecent as a swimsuit._ Another round, with a son of Mars winning saw me standing on the shore, ready to dive in. I could sense my muscles gaining some female attention -all for the better- before a conch called, the signal to start.

Lunging through the water like a knife through butter, I was as fast as I could be while cheating just a _tiny_ bit, using the energy being immersed in water gave me to go just that _little_ bit faster. I was half-way across the portion of the lake they were using as a course before I knew it, but I didn't see any of my progress, instead still going for all I was worth until I felt the sand under my feet again, climbing out of the water and tamping down on my powers so that I stayed wet. There were some cheers for me, surprisingly, as I sat and waited for the other competitors in this round

A few seconds after I climbed out, a daughter of Venus did the same, claiming second place in this race. _Sylvia, I think._

I nodded respectfully to her, as she stood where her lane ended, and she nodded back as a son of Hermes climbed out, in third place. Fourth and fifth were a legacy daughter of Apollo and a son of Ares who had apparently relied on strength to get him through the water. Chiron trotted up, "And Perseus proceeds to the next round!"

I walked over to where Zoe and a Connor Stoll -who won the round after Zoe- standing at the side. As I approached, Zoe deliberately switched sides with Connor so that he would be between Zoe and I. The braying of a conch sent the last five swimmers into the water, a young women opening up a gap between herself and everyone else, getting to the opposite shore a few seconds faster than her competition. Chiron clopped up, as he had done with the past three winner, "And Melissa is the victor!"

She took her place next to Zoe while Chiron turned to the audience, which was most of Camp Half-Blood, the Romans, and the Hunt. "Tomorrow, the last two contenders in the Final will be decided!"

A crowd of campers led the way to the appropriately wide-open space with the Hunt following, with the quartet of Senators taking up the rear while looking pleased at the performance so far. _Good. If they liked the Swimming, they probably noticed me._ Connor and the other girl went with the campers while I had grabbed Zoe's arm and forced her to stay, "Zoe, I'm not _his_ servant anymore."

Zoe snorted, "I am surprised that Minos would let you live."

I sighed, shaking my head, "Zoe, if I didn't fight them, they would've caught up with you. And they would've killed you rather than keep you alive like they did me. But Minos' dead, Zoe. I killed him."

"Of course he is dead, thy master has been dead for thousands of years."

I face-palmed, "Now you're just being difficult, Zoe. I swear, _on the Styx_, that Minos doesn't dictate my actions anymore."

"Thou art a werewolf. Oaths on the Styx do not bind thee, and we both know it." Zoe pointed out.

"Fine then, Miss Difficult, why haven't I killed you yet?" I asked, knowing it was a question she couldn't answer, "If the Judges ordered me to, you know I'd refuse. You know they'd whip me until I complied. In this plan, there are people who could take your place."

We were both getting dressed now, putting shirts and jeans over our swimwear, my touch was everything needed to be dry.

"They do not have Water." Zoe stated, patted her pocket only to find that it was empty.

"You don't either." To prove my point, I twirled the pen through the air, "Now _I _have Anaklusmos, and you have no bargaining chips. I don't want to kill you, and I'm not going to, whatever you might think. Minos, Read, and Machiavelli? They're all gone, Zoe, they aren't going to hurt you or me any longer. In fact, I'm the one who's going to appoint new Judges, and I know I _can_ kill them."

"I will believe thee if thee tells me how." Zoe looked at me skeptically, as if almost expecting me to lie.

"Same way you kill someone who's alive." I shrugged, "Stygian Iron works, and I'd imagine Celestial Bronze could work as well. Fists don't, though. D'you believe me now? And did I ever do anything to lose your trust?"

"No." Zoe admitted, "Thou did not do anything to lose my trust, although thy masters did. I believe thee now."

I checked my watch, "Well, good, 'cause the Knife-Fighting starts in a few minutes, and I'm one of them.

"How many are thou a part of?" Zoe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Five. We'd better get going." Concentrating, I summoned the _pugio_ I stole earlier as I jogged towards the Amphitheater, which was serving as the arena for most of the duel-style competitions. There were a few dozen other competitors, a lot more than the twenty that showed up for Swimming.

Miranda was a few meters away from me, but I knew better than to try to get her attention- nothing was worth even the _possibility_ of putting the plan in jeopardy. It was split pretty evenly between Greeks and Romans, with six Hunters as well.

"Beatris and Alex." Chiron called, making a Hunter and a son of Athena enter the Amphitheater. We had a good view of the stage from where we were, "First blood from the abdomen, BEGIN!"

The Hunter leapt forward, drawing her twin hunting knives as she did so. Alex rolled to the side, but the Hunter was to fast, spinning and cutting the camper. The match ended when the Hunter held up the blade of one of her knives, and everyone saw red on it. "The match concludes with Beatris as the victor!"

There was cheering at her skills from most of the audience, but the quartet of Senators didn't cheer or even clap. The next match was a son of Ares against a daughter of Mars, this time with the Greek emerging triumphant. The matches went on for about two hours, with about an even split between Greeks and Romans over who proceeded to the next round of matches. Three of the Hunters had gotten eliminated, but Pheobe joined Beatris in going on.

"The last match of the day is Miranda versus Thalia!" Chiron called, causing the two people in question to stride through the doors and onto the stage, taking their positions, "First blood from the abdomen, BEGIN!"

Thalia lunged forward rather predictably, but Miranda's dagger -now long and thick- deflected one of Thalia's knives to the side while Miranda sidestepped the other. Thalia spun, lighting fast to block Miranda's return slice, then went on the offensive. A flurry of quick blows forced Miranda to step back while blocking or dodging every one, her eyes narrowing as she watched the Hunter. I could see a few openings in Thalia's offense, but Miranda didn't take them, instead content to wait. When Miranda finally decided to act, it was almost to fast to catch: She ducked a horizontal slash from Thalia before catching a vertical knife on her own, before twisting the dagger she was carrying downward, neatly relieving Thalia of one of her hunting knives. But that was all Miranda needed, 'cause few seconds after, Miranda's knife flashed down, easily cutting through Thalia's Hunter uniform and slicing down her chest.

"Miranda wins!" The crowd -including one of the Senators, this time- clapped at what was the closest match today. There were still about a dozen of us who hadn't fought yet, but that'd happen tomorrow. "The next event is Archery, which is being held fifteen minutes from now at a building three down from here."

I wanted so badly to congratulate Miranda on her victory, but it was far to risky out here in the open, especially with those four Senators watching. _If they know we're friends, and I enter the Senate, she'll be at the top of their shit-list. Or kill-list._

For the first time today, I was watching a competition instead of taking part in it, and a good thing too. Jeanne had managed to make me competent with a bow, but when I saw the Hunters shoot . . . . wow. _I wouldn't looked good to the Senators if I used a bow -entirely an non-Roman weapon- and lost horribly with it._ To my surprise, it was a Roman who was the first camper to beat a Hunter: Frank Zhang. The Archery Range was set up with seven lanes, which meant seven archers would shoot at a time. Chiron would inspect the targets, and proclaim a winner of those seven, then the next seven took the first one's places. This went on for a number of matches, with three Greeks, three Romans, and a Hunter taking part in each one. Needless to say, the Hunter won all of them except for the one that Frank was in. The problem was, that left ten Hunters and Frank, and there were only seven lanes for the final. Chiron solved that problem, though,

"Tomorrow, four of these competitors will be eliminated, and the final will take place on the last day of the Games. Next is Javelins, which is also held here and starts in five minutes."

_Wonder if it'll be like that for all of the finals . . . _

I sat there for the five minutes, and watched Miranda in action. She went near her target, one of the Senators, obviously, but not the Consul, and leaned against a wall while pretending to do something meaningless. I got just within earshot as the Senator -a fifty-something man who was somewhat fit, but not especially handsome- noticed her and walked closer.

"Ms. Lytvyn, I feel I must thank you for the stimulating conversation you provided during both the Swimming and Discus events."

"Why, Mr. Scott, a Tribune such as yourself hardly needs to thank anyone." Miranda replied, smiling easily at him. I knew how beautiful that smile, and also how treacherous it was.

The Senator, though, didn't have the knowledge I did about Miranda, "My daughter seems to think I need to thank her every time she returns home not inebriated or high."

"That is hardly appropriate behavior for a young lady!" Miranda protested, "You are her father. If I was your daughter, you would certainly have my respect."

The Tribune sighed, "If only my own daughter saw me as you do. . ."

"I must ask, why is she still your daughter?" Miranda asked. _Walking a dangerous line, there. You'd better say explain it well_. "I mean no offense, merely that I would not trust someone who appears to be drunk more often than not with a great deal of money."

"What else can I do?" The Senator threw up his hands in exasperation, "She's the last of the line, and it would dishonor her mother's memory to marry again. I will _never_ disrespect my late wife."

"Surely there is a policy for adoption in New Rome?" Miranda prodded, "There must be someone more suitable to handle your fortune then your daughter."

"Hmm, that _does_ seem like an option I've missed. . . . although, it would be hard to find an orphan as graceful as yourself, one who would be able to handle a Senator's lifestyle."

"_I _am an orphan, Mr. Scott." Miranda said, "There simply _must _be others who would fit your requirements."

_Oh, you're clever. I already knew that, but still, you made yourself a candidate for his adoption, without making it seem like you were trying for that position._ The Senator was interested in her now, "So, Miranda, what do you do when you're not here?"

Miranda shrugged self-deprecatingly, "I go to the New Rome college in the winter."

"Really?" The Senator was even more interested now, eyeing Miranda up and down, as if assessing her "What courses do you take?"

"Political Science Major, with every class that is a part of that Major, along with Minoring in Government." Miranda replied, "I thought I might be able to get a job in the Bureaucracy."

"With all those reforms my party's passing, there'll be plenty of positions." Mr. Wilbur replied, chuckling, "We Freethinkers always do what's best for the Romans, and that includes creating new jobs."

_Does it also include making the government so deep in debt that they won't get out of it in a few centuries?_ Miranda looked thoughtful, but I knew it was a facade, "What do the Freethinkers do? I have heard stories, and it seems like you do a lot of good for the whole of New Rome."

"We do many things. . ."

This trailed off into a lengthy lecture of the Freethinker's philosophy, which I half-listened to as I watched the Javelin-Throwing contest. The Hunt, again, were prominent in this competition, but was faced with stiff resistance from the Romans with their _pilas_ and the Greeks, for whom learning to throw javelins was mandatory. This lead to a fairly even split of Greeks, Romans, and Hunters. The Senators didn't seem very interested, which I could relate to. _Where was the fun in watching a bunch of sticks get embedded in some straw? There isn't that much space for variation, not like in fighting with a weapon or wrestling._

Soon enough, due to a noticeable lack of competitors, their numbers had been whittled down enough for a finale. Chiron clomped his hoof on the floor, gaining everyone's attention, "The last competition to be held today is Sword-Fighting, which we return to the Amphitheater for in fifteen minutes."

I was one of the last three to leave the Archery Range, the other two being Miranda and the Tribune, who were still talking when I walked out. Once out of sight, I shadow-traveled back to the Nemesis Cabin, grabbing the Legionnaire's shield and _gladius_. Lastly, I pulled on a pair of black leather gloves to hide the eclipse that adorned my right palm- I couldn't have Artemis see my right hand until later tonight. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was five thirty-seven, which meant I had eight minutes to get to the Amphitheater. _No sense in wasting time._ I left the Nemesis Cabin, hoping to be one of the first competitors to get to the Amphitheater, which I was. Only a dozen were there before me, and only four of interest: Cameron, Jason, Pheobe, and the Guardian. _Last time, you caught me by surprise with Light. This time, I'll beat you._

Glancing down at the Guardian's waist, I saw he was going to use Light for the competition. He wouldn't be able to use it's powers, as that would be cheating, but it was still a fine blade. I couldn't match his Sword with Shadow, sadly, as Artemis believes I hid it away, and it was crucial for her to keep believing that I didn't have it.

More people started arriving after me, and by the time the fifteen minutes were up, there were probably over fifty competitors. _Figures this would be the most popular._

"The first match of this round is Perseus against Dakota." Chiron announced. I strode in with the Centurion right next to me. I had left my jacket back in my room, leaving me in a skin-tight black shirt that clearly defined my muscles and black jeans what wouldn't inhibit movement. _Dressed to impress, as it were._

After Dakota and I took up our ready positions, which practically mirrored each other, Chiron spoke again, "Until one is unable to continue, BEGIN!"

Dakota and I circled each other, both wielding the same weapons: A _gladius_ and a Legionnaire's shield. I knew how he would fight, and he knew how I would, but I had an edge on him in skill, and took the offensive. My initial stab was blocked by the heavy rectangular shield Dakota had on his left arm. His return stab missed as I sidestepped to his right, lunging in for a shield bash, which knocked the Centurion back a few paces. Dakota came back from it quickly, however, attacking me again.

The guy was good, using a mix of Greek and Roman fighting techniques while I responded with pure Roman. It took a bit longer to defeat Dakota than I would've liked, but I needed to get the Senators curious in me. I had to beat him as a _Roman_, not as a kinda-Roman, kinda-Greek, guy that also used a disturbing mix of techniques from across the world and across time -another advantage: All great sword-masters died eventually. The match ended when I used my _gladius_ to lever Dakota's shield away, then use my own shield to smash him in the face and leave him unconscious. After guaranteeing the Centurion was unconscious, I bowed low to the Senators.

"Perseus is the victor!" Chiron proclaimed to much applause, even from the Consul and his friends. _Good, I'll need that interest._

I headed into the stands to watch the next round, which was a son of Hermes against a daughter of Mars, which the Hermes guy won. About eleven matches in, it was the "Guardian" versus Cameron. I knew how good Carmon was, he didn't live through the two wars by being bad with a sword. But the man was far better then him. They both wielded hypaspist's shields, with Cameron wielding a short sword while the man had Light in an easy grip. The fight lasted a few minutes at most, with the veteran of two wars being figuratively torn apart by the "Guardian", who I suspected was a veteran of the two wars as well. Jason easily beat his opponent, a son of Athena, along with Pheobe, who was against a daughter of Mercury. _I'll need to be careful with them. Jason knows Roman fighting styles back-to-front, so he'd know how to counter them. That man matched me when he had Light and I had Shadow, but I think have an edge in experience and endurance. Pheobe, I should be able to beat unless something really unexpected happens._

When I checked my watch again, it was seven thirty, the nymphs having brought dinner out an hour again. Two dozen matches later, there were finally no more competitors, letting Chiron make an announcement, "The victors will duel tomorrow at the same time! That is the last event of the day!"

Turning away, I headed back for the Nemesis Cabin, only to spot Sasha heading for the forest. Jogging, I caught her arm, "You never told how you got in, my serpent."

"It is-s-s s-s-simple, mas-ster." Sasha hissed, "No god claimed me, s-so I live in Hermes-s-s."

"Hmph. Could be useful." Summoning Shadow to my hand, I held it out to Sasha, "Take it, I have something to do."

Sasha didn't question the order, taking the Sword and claiming the eclipse while it disappeared from my palm. Immediately after the mark disappeared, I felt somewhat weaker, but that would have to wait. I ran into a shadow, coming out inside of Daedalus' home. "Daedalus?"

"Ah, Proctor, your sheath is ready." Daedalus picked up a pair of white sheathes that were indistinguishable from each other. "The original is in my left hand. While holding the original, you cannot lose blood, but are still susceptible to bruises and broken bones. By your orders, the copy does not have the same ability."

Nodding, I took them both before shadow-traveling up to my Nemesis room. I left the original on the bed -along with my gloves- and approached Cabin Eight once I left the Nemesis Cabin. The Guardian, of course, stopped me, "What do you want?"

I held up my hands in surrender, "I have information Artemis will want to hear. And I have a gift that Artemis will want to see. Look, I swear on the Styx this is important."

The Guardian believed me -apparently he didn't know I was a werewolf- before he spoke again, "I don't think I ever thanked you for keeping the Hunt safe here."

I shrugged, "They scratched my back, I returned the favor."

The Guardian opened the door to Cabin Eight, letting me go in first. I thought he was just being nice before I felt the prick of something sharp and pointy in my back, "Keep going."

I obeyed the order and walked to the door, which the Guardian knocked on, "Got a visitor, Arty!"

"Don't. Call. Me. Arty!" Artemis growled, opening the door, "Tristan?"

"Lady Artemis." I replied, doing a half-bow.

"At least one male has respect." Artemis grumbled, letting us in.

"He said he has a gift you'd want to see and information you'd want to hear."

"Well, why did you not say so, Tristan?" Artemis asked.

"It is disrespectful to speak without being spoken to by the Lady of the Hunt." I replied, "This is the gift."

I held up the sheath, turning to the Guardian, "I believe this is the sheath of Light. I thought it would be best to approach bearing gifts."

Artemis studied it, nodding, "It is, Declan."

_Declan, Knew it! Well, fine, I didn't, but I had an idea._ Declan took the sheath, before taking Light from another sheath -that one not nearly as orient- and slid it into the sheath that was meant for the sword, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Mr. Ross." I replied, grinning at him before turning back to Artemis, "You won't like the info, ma'am, so please don't kill me once you see it."

"Just tell me, male. It is hard enough to tolerate one of your kind here without killing you, but you have helped my Hunt and quite possibly saved their lives." Artemis stated, "That being said, I can still quite easily gut you."

"I have no doubt of that, Lady Artemis." I held up my right hand, showing Artemis the palm, "As you can see, there isn't an eclipse there, which means Shadow has a new owner."

"That reminds me, you broke the agreement when you used it to fight Declan here." There was a flash of motion, then Artemis had a pair of knives in her hands, "Why?"

"I would rather not let someone who attacked me do the same to the Hunters." I shrugged, "Shadow evened the odds, as Declan here wielded Light."

"Where did you hide the blade, male?" Artemis demanded, steel entering her voice as she slipped into interrogation mode.

"Up north, ma'am, inside the meanest place I could think of." I shrugged, "A maze with a snake in it. A huge snake, drakon-sized and vicious. Green scales, quick as a blink, fangs the size of swords."

Artemis hissed something that sounded like "Sasha" and something like "clueless, idiot males", then stood, "Declan, get him out of here then come to Olympus. We might have a job to do."

"Sure thing, Moonbeam."

"You'll pay for that when I get back." Artemis flashed away, leaving Declan to grab me by my arm and drag me outside. Not that it took much effort- my job was done here.

Walking around apparently randomly, I quickly tracked down Sasha and reclaimed Shadow. From there, I went back to my room in the Nemesis Cabin. Now out of sight, I shadow-traveled to the Underworld. I had to do a lot of training before I could sleep.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

Groaning, I got up to see the clock read four thirty-seven. I had slept late, sure, but it was still early enough for my to do my work. I ran through a list of outfits in my head, settling on a black cloak with a deep cowl, perfect for hiding my figure and my face. Shadow went into a sheath under the cloak, then I shadow-traveled into Artemis' room in Cabin Eight. That Artemis was sleeping there instead of flying her moon chariot surprised me, but what shocked me was the figure next to her, wearing only a t-shirt and boxers: Declan Ross, the Guardian of the Hunt.

Light was resting against the side of the bed, within easy reach, while Artemis' knives were on the other side. Careful not to make any sudden movements I shadow-traveled the weapons to my feet, then sharpened shadows and set them at the sleeping pair's throats. _One thing left: Claim Light_. I grabbed the Sword in my left hand, only for burning pain to flare up in my right hand as the eclipsed shimmered into a sunrise, then an eclipse again, as if the two Swords were fighting for control. I dropped Light with a clatter before calling out, "Wake!"

Artemis and Declan jerked awake, nearly impaling themselves on the shadow-spikes as they did. Hands searched frantically for weapons that weren't there. A glance at Declan's right palm showed that he could no longer control Light. _So he doesn't have Light, and neither do I._

"Tell me the history of the "Guardian," I started, my voice much lower then it would be normally, "and he will live. I'll even return this fabled Sword to you. Or you can refuse, in which case I'll kill the male and cripple you, Artemis."

To prove my point, I sent the shadows a little closer, digging into their throats. _Good, they're disoriented and can't see me very well. That'll play Tartaurus with their nerves._ "You have thirty seconds to decide."

"Artemis, get out of here." Declan said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like an order, "I'll die here if I need to."

Artemis disappeared, but I had prepared for that by encasing the entire room in shadow. According to Hermes, this flashing thing was a form of air travel, so it was Artemis' will struggling against mine as the goddess tried to break through the barrier. The sharpened shadows dug further into Declan's throat, coaxing a small groan from him. That sound shattered Artemis' concentration, and she reappeared in the exact spot she had left.

"None of that now, you two." I warned, "You tell me, and you'll live. Proctors do not break their word over such a matter as this."

"I'll never give in to the likes of you." Declan growled, "Try anything you like to me, I won't break."

"Ah, I believe the operative words there are _to me_." Manipulating the shadows, a thin blade sliced across Artemis' face, drawing golden blood. Then, a sharpened point coalesced over her right eye, "At the rate that point is going, your girlfriend's gonna lose the eye in, oh, forty-five seconds. If I take what remains of the eye, she will never grow it back."

Artemis, to her credit, didn't plead with Declan to tell me, but she was clearly a chink in Declan's armor. After thirty of the seconds ticked by, Artemis let out a small gasp as the point of shadows touched her eyeball, and that was all it took to break Declan, "Stop it, I'll tell you."

The point immediately disappeared, "Well?"

"It all began when I found Light in the woods." Declan started, "The spirit of King Arthur warned me of the Sword's nature, but I still used it. I killed monsters in the forest, and their dust was sucked into the blade. It was throbbed in my hands, like it was alive. The real trouble started in a CTF game, when I accidentally maimed another camper. It wanted to finish the job, kill the camper, but I barely held it back. Since then, I was careful only to harm monsters with the blade, until a bit more than two months ago. I think it's something life seventy-three days ago, now. An Ares camper was ragging on one of the new Hermes, so I swung at him with the flat of my blade, not meaning to draw blood. But I did, and the blood was sucked. A red mist fell over my vision, and I attacked the entire Ares Cabin, trying to kill them all with abandon."

_Well, why couldn't you have done a better job of it? It certainly would've made _my _job easier._

"Artemis recognized the Sword and shot me so I would stop trying to kill campers. It bought her enough time to flash me up to Olympus, where I rounded on her. We fought as Hestia summoned a council. Ares and Athena subdued me soon after they arrived." Declan shrugged, "Zeus was in favor of killing me, but Poseidon and Hades didn't want to kill another after Percy Jackson. Ares, Athena, Hera, Apollo, Hephaestus, Poseidon, Hades, Aphrodite, and to my surprise, Artemis all voted to let me live. Dionysus was asleep, though, so I can't count his lack of voting against him. Anyways, it was Hera's idea to make me the Guardian of the Hunt, saying that if I was responsible for other people, the killing rage of that Sword would be lessened, and that Artemis would be able to contain me should all else fail. Artemis objected, but the vote was passed. I had to sleep next to Artemis, on the floor of her tent, to make sure I didn't sneak off to go on a rampage. I kept having nightmares of killing and blood, and being forced to do all the Hunt's chores didn't help, either. The Hunters were too scared of me to prank me, thankfully, but that didn't stop them from adding to my chores. In fact, I started going insane, cackling at things that didn't exist and killing small animals to feed Light, even a young mortal. It broke one day as I got angry enough to cut Pheobe on the arm with Light. Same thing as before, but luckily, the Hunt are a lot more skilled than any camper, and they brought me down."

_This is a lot more interesting than I thought it would be, actually. _"Continue."

"The gods were furious, and I was still insane, so I ran away. In my absence, the Olympians, led by Zeus, brought most of the Hunters -excepting Pheobe- to Camp Half-Blood. Pheobe, he took down to the Underworld, to Hades' best torturers. They put Artemis under house arrest on Ortygia, her birthplace. I had run off on a killing spree in the oceans, killing whales, sharks, some huge fish, and sea serpents when a huge one, the Skolopendra, I think swam up. I killed it, but it knocked me unconscious. While sinking through the murk, some Nereids found me and healed my mind for the most part, although they couldn't remove Light's influence." Declan sighed, "I don't know how they kept me alive under the sea, but I think it was the same way the ichthyocentaurs did with those three on the Quest of the Seven."

_Quest of the Seven? Seriously?_

"From there, I used Light to flash myself to Camp Half-Blood, only to find someone -who I later learned was Tristan- fighting Heracles -and winning- while someone else who I still don't know was turning back a crowd of campers who were trying to attack the Hunters. Tristan Dewolfe tried to prevent me from getting to the Hunters. Light sparked my rage, making me attack Tristan. We both drew blood before he reminded me of why I was there: To get the Hunt back. I led them into the forest before flashing us all away, somewhere safe. From there, I went to the Underworld and got to Pheobe, bringing her back to her sisters. Then, I went to Ortygia to get Artemis back to her Hunt. I "convinced" Zeus that everything was good, then promptly collapsed on Artemis' bed as soon as I got back to camp -I was too exhausted to even make it to the floor where I should've been. Artemis, who was under strict orders not to in any way do anything that could even slightly appear to be even the minutest bit against me, had to sleep next to me on the bed. That night, I didn't have nightmares, and the next day, Light didn't urge me to kill. Time passed, and here we are."

"Good enough." The sharpened shadows that held Artemis and Declan in check vanished. I kicked Light back to the Guardian, then disappeared into a shadow. _That was certainly enlightening._

* * *

**A/N: Currently, I'm debating the possibility of telling all this from Declan's POV in a separate story from this, and doing the same for Jason (he'll become important soon, and I haven't forgotten about Leo, either.) The Sword-wielders (for want of a better word) will be important, along with Clarisse and Cameron (That'll happen a lot latter). Last thing, this _is_ actually a Guardian/Chaos story for Declan, but he can't speak of Chaos to anyone else, so he couldn't have told Percy. (That'll also become important.)**

**Please review, favorite, follow. Even reading the next chapter shows your support, which I greatly appreciate.**


	12. Chapter 10- Phorcys, Keto, and Day Five

**A/N: I'm defiantly starting this story from Declan's POV, but I'm going to swap Declan's and Perseus' places, because it'll be a better story if Percy's the guardian, not Declan. That being said, it'll be a bit different then the usual Pertimis or The Golden-Eyed Swordsman in many ways.**

Chapter 10- Phorcys, Keto, and Day Five

* * *

Percy's POV

I stumbled out of the shadows and into my room, glancing around to make sure no one was there, then hid Shadow under my bed._ If they found me with Shadow, they'd kill me no matter what I say._

Checking the clock, I saw it was only a quarter past five, which meant I still had plenty of time. And I had something else to do. Leaving the cloak behind, I dressed in a tight gray t-shirt and blue jeans -a marked difference from the black I usually wore. Then, I shadow-traveled down to Atlanta, into a certain aquarium. I skipped the normal part of the building, shadow-traveling right into the Porky's Follies part.

"Keto, Phorcys, I know you can hear me." I called, "I have a deal that could end your imprisonment here."

Phorcys approached in his usual crab-walk, whereas Keto was practically skipping in from the opposite direction.

"Welcome to Phorcys' Follies!" Phorcys announced, and just like last time, the Telkhines didn't move.

"Let me guess: A double spin, then land in pyramid formation?" I asked dryly.

Phorcys spun to face me, surprisingly agile despite his weird walking thing," How-"

"Time for that latter." I cut him off, "Now, you guys don't like being imprisoned, and I'd like a certain sea-god to be attacked."

Phorcys looked at me interestedly, "Really? What would you propose?"

"I free you. Right here, right now, and in return, you build your forces quietly and wait for my signal to launch an assault on Poseidon." I said, "After that, I don't bother you and you don't bother me. Oh, and you'll probably have to work with Oceanus on this."

Phorcys nodded, "Free us, and I swear on the Styx I'll follow your orders as long as they're part of the attack. Keto?"

"What? Oh, I swear the same thing Phorcys did." Keto was looking at the squid tank distractedly.

"Keto, did you know that each of the monstrous squid's tentacles had sixty-two barbs that need to be sharpened daily?" I asked, getting Keto's attention. _Good, I'll need her to like me. Or at least think I'm knowledgeable about sea-monsters._

"He can also eat a fully armored demigod without indigestion!" Keto replied eagerly.

"Really?" I questioned, "I thought it ate whales and small boats!"

"Well, it does, but-"

"Keto, you're doing it again." Phorcys growled. "Stop boring our friend."

_Huh, last time I was here, they were trying to kill me. _"Can you show me as far as you can go before whatever the Olympians did stops you?"

They nodded, walking over to an exit door. They couldn't cross the threshold, however, which was probably the only thing that kept them from chasing us back to the _Argo II_ the last time I was here.

"Hmm." I looked at the doors, thinking. If this is like the barrier around Camp Half-Blood, they'd need a god's permission to leave. _Or, more likely, this is something entirely different._

"And you can't get out the top of the building?" I asked, gesturing to the aquarium they had trapped Frank and I in. The only roof it had was a webbing of Celestial Bronze.

Phorcys and Ketos looked at each other, "Umm, we've never tried."

I sighed, "Well, try. I'll get Nemesis here if that fails. Any fountains nearby?"

"Just around the corner." Phorcys replied. _Good. Can't have them think I'm Percy, and there's only been one son of the sea god in a few dozen years._

"Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me Nemesis, on Mount Olympus." I intoned, throwing a drachma into a convenient rainbow that had formed from the fountain Phorcys mentioned.

The mist shimmered, Nemesis' face appearing and some kind of death metal was playing in the background. "Proctor?"

"What would it take for you to release Phorcys and Keto?" I asked.

"Not very much, if they'll handle Poseidon." Nemesis replied, "I take it that's what you want them for?"

"Something like that." I smiled, then heard Keto calling, "Sorry, I'll get back to you in a few seconds."

I spun, going back to the aquarium room, where Keto and Phorcys had somehow managed to get up and were now clinging to the netting, "There isn't anything stopping us from getting through, except that the gaps in the netting are too small."

Well, that I can deal with. "Get down, I need to get back to Nemesis."

The goddess still had the Iris-Message open when I got back, "Well?"

"Sorry, but I think Keto found a way around whatever Zeus did." I shrugged, "Oh, and thanks for telling Miranda not to kill me."

"Miranda?" Nemesis looked confused, "I didn't tell her anything like that. I talk to her, yes, but I've never said anything about you."

"Curious. Whatever, enjoy your day." I broke the call, then went back to the room, where Phorcys and Keto were on the floor.

Gathering my strength, I drew Shadow and formed a thick column of darkness in front of the blade, then drew the Sword back as if preparing for a thrust. Then, I shoved Shadow forward, the column mirroring my actions, smashing through the wall like a battering ram. When the dust cleared, I was left with a hole in the wall. "Here you go."

"Won't the Olympians know we've escaped?" Phorcys asked, looking around almost nervously.

"What, Olympians checking a mortal newspaper?" I laughed, "We're in Georgia, and I'll pin this down to a gas explosion or something. It's just a wall blown out, after all. And it seems like the Olympians focused their powers on the doors, which are completely intact."

"Oooh, I can see my babies again!" Keto was practically jumping with joy as soon as she left the building, probably the first time in a few years, at the very least. Olympian justice is either death or imprisonment for an immortal life. Ugh.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

It took me about an hour to convince the police it was a gas explosion -while quietly laughing at them. _How could anyone mistake a hole in a wall that had no pipes anywhere near it as a gas explosion?_

My watch read six forty-seven in New York time, which meant I had to get back to Camp Half-Blood. _Good thing Shadow-traveling is instantaneous_. After climbing up the ladder, I headed for the Dining Pavilion. Just like yesterday, I was the first one there, with others coming in as I ate. This time, Declan summoned breakfast for the Hunters, then just stood there. _You're no fun, Declan. Smart, though. I wonder what the Olympians'll do now that the Proctor's back?_

There were schedules in a few places around the Pavilion, something that either I hadn't noticed or wasn't there yesterday. _Let's see. . . . Wrestling first, then a few others. . . . . Spears and Knives back-to-back . . . . . Swimming, not important . . . . . then Swordsmanship at the end again. That'll be fun._

Wrestling was in the training arena, as wrestling on the marble floor of the Amphitheater would hurt. There were only a dozen of us, however, and I was the only one not part of the Mars/Ares bunch. Luckily, the camp was providing the singlet, so I didn't have to buy or steal one. That singlet, however, wouldn't provide much modesty, probably the reason no Hunters of Artemis joined.

Clarisse -no way she'd miss this- and a Roman named Jeff were the first match, with Clarisse winning hands-down. Then were two Romans I didn't recognize, with a male one taking a place beside Clarisse. Next was a male Greek and a female Roman, with the Roman winning, then it was my turn. I was wearing blue, against a male Roman called Steven, who was wearing red.

A Greco-Roman wrestling match was divided into three "periods," two minutes each. Winning two periods means you win, but it also has points. However, winning two periods means you win, regardless of points. The referee -Chiron, of course- inspected both of our singlets for oil, grease, or any other infraction on the rules. Steven and I shook hands, then Chiron blew the whistle, signaling the start of the match.

The match started with Steven and I searching for a grip on each other, while desperately avoid each other's hands. Wrestling was something I learned particularly quickly in the Underworld. _A metal-plated person on a stone floor is a great motivator for learning to wrestle, I guess._ My right hand locked high up on Steven's left arm, Steven's left hand quickly grabbing onto my forearm as well. My left hand moved like lightning once my right had a grip, grabbing Steven's side before straightening up, the abrupt change in height knocking Steven a little off balance, but the guy was good a got his feet underneath him again.

The match degenerated into a contest of strength and weight, and while I was probably stronger than Steven, I wasn't as heavy, which meant I had to kind of tip him over. A sudden jerk brought me completely off balance, but my left hand moved to Steven's shoulder and brought him down with me

We struggled for a while on the floor before I managed to practically kneel on the Roman, forcing his shoulders into the sand, and Chiron declared me the victor of the period.

Less than a minute later, the next period started with my arms twisting around Steven's, then wrenching him off balance. I pressed the advantage, muscling him back and not allowing him to get more than one foot on the ground at a time. After about forty-five seconds of this, the inevitable happened with Steven getting pinned to the ground.

"Perseus is the victor and proceeds to the next round!" Chiron proclaimed. Head high, I joined Clarisse, the Roman -who I learned was Marcus-, and the Greek -who's name was Jonas. The next match was one by a Roman -in fact, there were only Romans left- by the name of Delozier, and the last one was Tess. Two females and four males.

"Tomorrow will see these six competitors narrowed down to three!" Chiron proclaimed, "Up next is Footrace!"

Good thing I didn't sign up for that. I doubt I could out-run a snail in this state. Deciding -rather obviously- to give the next few games a miss, I showered off and grabbed a few snacks to put some more fuel in the tank before Spear-Fighting and Knife-Fighting. Going back to the Nemesis Cabin, I set a stopwatch for two hours before taking a nap. But sleep, as it usually did, brought dreams.

_Artemis flashed into the throne-room of Olympus, firing a silver arrow into the sky. All around her, the Olympians flashed in, including Hades and Hestia._

_"Father, there is a new Proctor." Artemis said, "He claimed the Sword of Shadow, ambushed my Guardian and I."_

_Zeus turned pale and sank in his seat, "How long ago?"_

_"This morning. Do I have your approval to take my followers and hunt him down?" Artemis asked, almost as if expecting to be denied._

_"No." Zeus replied, "Let the Greco-Roman games finish. I will order a quest between the Greeks, Romans, and Hunters to . . . dispose of the menace."_

_"Who, Father? He is very skilled, perhaps even matching Declan in skill."_

_"The most children of the Big Three, of course. Jason, representing Camp Jupiter. Nico, representing Camp Half-Blood. And Thalia, representing the Hunt." Zeus decided._

_Then there was another flash of light as Declan appeared, holding Light, and I was sucked away by a strange ringing sound. . ._

My hand flailed out blindly, hitting the snooze button before climbing out of bed and picking up the _pila_ and _pugio_, sliding the latter into a sheath at my belt. Running my hand through my hair to get it back into it's natural state of unruliness, I finished the snack I had gotten earlier and headed to the Amphitheater. Clarisse was one of the Spear-Fighting competitors -no surprise there- along with Thalia -also no surprise- and about two dozen others.

"Clarisse and Marcus." Chiron said, prompting the two Ares campers stepped onto the Amphitheater's stage, "To disarmament or unconsciousness. Begin!"

It was a short match, with Clarisse lunging forward and hitting the wrestler solidly early on. Marcus recovered quickly, but not before Clarisse got a few more blows in. Seconds after that, Clarisse disarmed him.

"Clarisse is the victor!" Chiron proclaimed. They shook hands and stepped off the stage, clearing the way for a Roman and a Greek. The Roman won after a few minutes by knocking the Greek unconscious.

"Perseus and Thalia." Chiron called. When I glanced over, I could see his eyes lost some of their joy, obviously remembering the old Percy.

I took up a ready stance with the _pila_, while Thalia slowly twirled her own spear. Unlike the Swordsmanship contest, shields weren't allowed here, so Aegis wasn't in play. We circled each other, Thalia having no idea what I could do, while I had fought Thalia plenty of times. All the same, she'll have to make the first move.

And she did, lunging forward. I sidestepped to the left of her lunge, only to realize that was the same way she was heading. I braced myself while knocking her spear away, then rammed my shoulder into her. _Well, she's a lot softer than a set of French armor._ In the few seconds Thalia was disoriented, I slammed the shaft of my spear into her right wrist, but didn't manage to disarm her that easily.

Thalia's spear came around again, trying to slice me in the chest, but I jumped backwards. For the next few minutes, we fought back and forth. I was mostly on the defensive, but Thalia was sporting a few cuts where I had gotten through. I, however, was spotless, having fought cautiously the entire battle. Narrowing my eyes, I focused on her right wrist. It was hurting, I could see that much, as I had caught it with another blow only a few seconds ago.

My _pila_ was knocked away by an arm before that arm was followed by Thalia's spear, making me dodge away again. I backed away, keeping some distance until Thalia left her guard a little too low. Lunging, I embedded the _pila_ in her wrist, her hand spasming and releasing the spear, which I grabbed in my left hand and yanked away from the obviously in pain Hunter.

"Perseus is the victor!" announced Chiron, bringing me out of my battle mind-set. Carefully pulling my _pila_ out of Thalia's wrist, I bowed to the quartet of Senators before shaking Thalia's hand graciously and stepping off the stage. Once I got back to the competitors' area, I turned to see two of the Senators looking at me, interested in the performances they had seen from me so far._ Of course they'd be, I fought using entirely Roman equipment and techniques. And won at everything, so far._

I sat down, taking a breather and having a bag of Trail-Mix as a bit of a pick-me-up before the knives came out. Matches passed quickly, with far more Greeks than Romans being victors, until everyone had fought.

"Knife-Fighting begins in ten minutes, also held here!" Chiron called. Miranda stepped down from the bleachers as most of the the people were leaving. The wide, leave-shaped blade of the _pugio_ felt like a really-short Riptide as I cleaned and sharpened it, making sure it was ready for action -action I was sure it was going to get this time.

Chiron started calling out matches, all people who hadn't had the opportunity to test their skill yesterday. Finally, he got to me, "Perseus versus Aria, first blood from the abdomen!"

I took to the stage, with the youngest Hunter joining me. _I'll have to be careful. This one's fast, along with having a few years of Legion training._

She didn't disappoint, using a thinner _pugio_ and a standard hunting knife with impressive skill. The ferocity of the attack kept me on the defensive for the first few minutes and gave me a few nicks on the arm before I recovered. Ducking a diagonal slash from the _pugio_, my own dagger caught her hunting knife, twisted, and yanked downward. The knife was wrested from the Hunter's hand, clattering to the floor. I kicked the weapon away before going on the offensive, pushing Aria back with relative ease, then my _pugio_ slashed upwards at an angle, going across her stomach and creating a superficial wound. I held the _pugio_ up to Chiron, the blood clearly visible.

"Perseus is victorious yet again." Chiron chuckled at the last bit. As I had for all my other matches, I bowed to the Senators before stepping from the stage and returning to the competitor's area. Miranda smiled at me, while I smirked back and twirled the pugio menacingly. _Yeah, sure, like I'd win a match between the two of us._

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The three dozen competitors who entered the tournament were now whittled down to a dozen. Pheobe, Miranda, and I were proudly -and luckily- part of that dozen.

The next few hours passed, going from competition to competition. Swimming passed, but I was already one of the final six, so I didn't compete there. As the sun started to hand lower in the sky, Chiron led us all back to the Amphitheater, where Swordsmanship would be held again.

There were a clean three dozen of us, and half of them were going to be eliminated today, just like half of the original six dozen were beaten yesterday.

"The first match is the Guardian versus Jason!" Chiron announced, before two of the most powerful demigods stepped on stage.

The match that followed was . . . epic. Two experts with the blade, both veterans of wars and quests, one Greek, one Roman. They were a blur of bronze and gold in the center of the stage, striking and blocking more quickly than any pair had before them. But I wasn't caught up in the spectacle. No, I was analyzing both of their styles, how much they had changed in the time I was gone. _Okay, Jason still prefers stabbing, that's good. Declan looks kinda slow, but with the way Jason's reacting, he's strong._

In a startling move, Declan punched Jason on the nose with his sword-hand, then slammed his shield into Jason's chest. Coupled with a kick to Jason's leg, the Roman toppled over and released his _gladius_.

"And the Guardian is triumphant!" Chiron proclaimed, ending the match. Declan offered Jason a hand, which the Roman gladly took then headed off the stage. _At least I won't have to face Jason. He's probably the only one with enough skill and experience in Roman fighting to beat me._

The matches went on for a while, with Pheobe advancing as well. Then it was my turn.

"Perseus against Hank!" Chiron called. One of the Centurions of the Third Cohort followed me up to the stage, all muscle and sinew. Once we were ready, Chiron spoke again, "Begin!"

Hank charged forward with a stab, which I spun away from and responded with one of my own in true Roman style. Hank ducked it, this time his _gladius_ swinging in from the side. I caught it on my crossguard, actually being forced to take a step back from the blow. _Gods damn it, this guy's a battering ram! Not quick to turn, though._

I dodged around Hank's massive form, stabbing again. Hank jerked aside at the last moment, making my _gladius_ barely touch him. When Hank stabbed again, I deflected it to the left with my shield. This gave me opportunity to ram my shoulder into his side, throwing him off balance.

I pressed the advantage, relentlessly switching between stabs and shoving with my heavy shield to force him backwards, until I finally toppled him and held the _gladius_ to his throat.

"Perseus triumphs!"

I bowed to the Senators -of course- before helping Hank to his feet, "Thought I might've bitten off more than I could chew there."

Hank chuckled, "You fight like a Roman, Perseus. Better than me, looks like I couldn't chew that much."

I laughed, clapping him on the shoulder and heading back to the competitor's area. The Senators were still watching me, out of the corner of their eyes, as I sat cross-legged on the floor, appearing to watch the next match. _Good, it's working. By the last day, one of them'll probably approach me. Hopefully it's the Consul._

* * *

**Percy's POV**

The rest of the day passed with ease, as Swordsmanship was the last activity. Now I was waiting for a certain empousa to separate from her pack. _After all, I can't exactly come up to Artemis and ask, "Hey, mind if I borrow one of your Hunters so she can give me the info I need to de-throne Zeus? Thanks!"_

I was outside of the Nemesis Cabin, sharpening my _gladius _while keeping a sly eye on Cabin Eight. Luckily, the empousa emerged sooner rather than later. _Good, 'cause I would've bored myself to death before too long._

Trailing her, I watched as she neatly avoided the cleaning harpies and sat down on the beach, looking out over the sound. I slunk through the night in wolf form and joined her when I turned back into a human.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" I asked, sitting down next to the Hunter.

Elysia looked shocked at my sudden appearance before responding nervously, "Yeah, I guess."

"Chill, I'm not gonna kill you." I smiled, "And the cleaning harpies don't go near the beach."

"What are you doing here?" Elysia asked, getting to the point.

"Followed you, Elysia. I know this is a bit personal, but how many times have you died?"

The she-demon stiffened before replying, "Twenty-three. I'm no stranger to Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold."

"Elysia, I know you owe me a great deal. You owe me your current life, and with non-human creatures like you, that means a lot." I paused before speaking again, "I'm not what the Hunters would call a "good" person."

Elysia snorted, but there was an undercurrent of fear in her voice, "No male is."

I let out a harsh bark of laughter, "That isn't what I mean, and you know it. If Zeus knew what I was planning, he would have me executed. So you're gonna have to swear an oath on the Styx not to tell anyone of these events and this information until it becomes common knowledge. For what it's worth, I swear that those plans aren't to rule everyone with an iron fist, but to correct millenia of injustice at Zeus' hands."

Elysia's eyes lowered, but I knew she had no choice. "I swear on the Styx not to tell anyone of these events and this information until it becomes common knowledge."

"Good. Don't worry, I'm not forcing you to join me or anything like that. I just need to know how to get in touch with the leaders of the monsters. Queen Sess, Prometheus, the like."

The she-demon sighed, "I know what you ask of. You cannot contact them through an Iris-Message, but there are certain . . . other ways."

"Such as?"

"If you can obtain a scythe charm, those are still working." She shrugged, not meeting my eyes, "They are known to have intelligent minions in certain places, used to contact other groups of monsters if needed."

"Show me those places, and I won't bother you again." I said.

"You have maps?"

"Of a sort." Taking out my phone, I pulled up a mapping app. "Start talking."

"Doyle's Pub, New York."

"Got it." I saved the location before zooming out again.

"Double Barrel Tavern, New York."

"Check."

"Blue Moon Salon, California."

The list went on for a few more buildings, each of them being marked on the map before we were done.

"Thanks." I stood, "Might just kill those damn harpies, too."

The empousa didn't respond, instead looking out to the see with melancholy. _Kill her? Nah, she might still be useful. And she looks so peaceful and yet troubled at the same time. Ugh, snap out of it Perseus. Plan's the only thing that matters._

I turned back into a wolf, slinking away before I heard voices behind me, "Though I'd find you out here. Still not sleeping?"

"No." Elysia replied, "The sea looks so peaceful, Declan."

He chuckled, "It does now. I remember during the Titan War, with Percy and his powers . . ."

"Isn't he evil?" Elysia asked. I had crept back to the top of the beach, looking down at them.

"He is now, Elysia, but by the gods, he was fighter." Declan replied, turning to look at Elysia, "One of the later battles of the war, it was the Athena Cabin, the Hunters, some dryads, nymphs, Satyrs, and Perseus against Hyperion and a horde of monsters. Hyperion was going south, through Central Park, and nothing could stop them. The Hermes Cabin -and I was a part of it back then- were posted at the bridge over the Harlem River, but Hyperion and his minions smashed right through us. We retreated, still fighting, but we couldn't even slow the Titan down. The Hermes Cabin scattered, leaving too many behind."

Declan sighed before continuing, "Their army split when it reached the Reservoir, half of it going around on either side, with Hyperion running over the water. Then I saw an ambush timed to perfection -Annabeth's work. Greek Fire tore up the paths around the Reservoir, the Satyrs playing their pipes to trip most of the monsters while Percy Jackson himself ran across the water towards Hyperion, to take the Titan out. I had been following the Titan in the trees, trying to warn anyone I could. Once I saw the ambush, I joined the Athena's to fight them back. Anyways, Hyperion was winning at first with this blinding flash of light, kinda like the ones I can summon with my Sword."

"Then?"

"Then Percy spun up the water into a hurricane around himself. It was amazing to watch, and Percy started beating Hyperion. One-on-one with a Titan, and Percy was kicking his arse. Percy was a fighter to the end, and with the Satyr's help, they got Hyperion encased in an maple."

"Wow. What about the Perseus-slash-Tristan here, is he anything like Percy?" Elysia asked eagerly, as if forgetting the conversation I had with her a minute ago.

Declan shrugged, "I don't know Tristan very well. He's certainly an excellent fighter, but he fights in exculsively Roman styles. No one else signed up for five competitions, either. The most I've seen, other than him, was three. And he hasn't lost yet."

"But why would he sign up for five? And why does he keep bowing to the Senators?"

"Maybe he wants to move to New Rome, be part of the Legion. He's certainly skilled enough, and signing up to five would show his dedication." Declan shook his head, "There's something about him that doesn't make sense. He's a werewolf who fled from the Pack only after the Hunt was almost destroyed in it's entirety. They didn't know he even existed when he showed up with Thalia, and Artemis proceeded to beat him up and interrogate him. Tristan, though, apparently didn't break and began threatening them -all while chained to chair. He -a male- somehow convinced Artemis to attack the Pack, and went to kill twenty his former comrades. Then he showed up here."

"I have any of the stories you do, Declan. Most of the time I'm in Cabin Eight."

"Oh, yeah. Anyways, he chose the name Perseus, and I don't know why. He could've been Tristan Dewolfe, but wasn't. From what I've heard, he quickly became friends with Miranda -if she has any friends- and began building a reputation that mirrored her own: Powerful, cunning, ruthless. But he has one advantage over Miranda: He's charismatic. Even though he practically owns the camp, he doesn't lord it over the rest of the campers. No one wants to cross him. Kinda like me." Declan smiled, "Then, you guys came here. He -for some reason- decided to help you, and used Miranda's reputation to keep the campers in line for the most part. Believe me, I've talked to some of my old Hecate buddies, and they said that without Perseus and Miranda, they would've killed a few of you -and gladly. Then, on the day I came back, discipline broke and they mobbed you guys. While Miranda single-handedly defeated over eighty campers, Perseus practically killed a god and fought me to a standstill -and you know how hard the latter is. He's either very careful about your health or wants something, and I'm starting to believe it's the former."

* * *

**Time Skip: Two days (84 since Percy joined camp, last day of the Games)**

**Percy's POV**

"The final six competitors in Swimming are Zoe, Sylvia, Beatris, Jackson, Griff, and Perseus!" Chiron announced, "For all the marbles . . . . . . Begin!"

I dived into the water, not missing a beat as my legs started kicking powerfully and my hands cut through the water. I could feel Zoe only a few inches behind me, and Sylvia only a little behind her. Jackson and Beatris were far behind, but Griff was about a foot behind Sylvia and going strong. I pressed harder, coaxing every bit of speed I could out of my muscles and gradually drawing a lead on the daughter of Pleione. A few inches became a foot, became two, became three as I lunged through the water like a rocket. Then I felt sand under my feet as I reached the shore, climbing to my feet and running the last little bit out of the water, Zoe only a second at most behind me. I bowed to the Senators as usual before turning back to the lake. Sylvia climbed out practically at the same time as Griff, and about fifteen seconds after that, Jackson and Beatris reached the end.

"Perseus is the victor, with Zoe in second place and Sylvia in third!"

I pumped my fist into the air in triumph, and congratulated Zoe before heading off to change. _What's next . . . . Wrestling, after Discus. Better get into that singlet._ After putting on some clothes over the wrestling outfit, I caught the last few minutes of the Discus, with some son of Ares taking first.

Clarisse and I took to the stage, not needing to be announced. After all, everyone else was eliminated yesterday.

"The two finalists are Clarisse and Perseus! Fight!"

We circled each other, too good to just lunge at the beginning. Clarisse made a tentative movement that I realized was a feint, then I lunged forward just as Clarisse was withdrawing her hand. I caught both of her upper arms in an iron grip while her hands locked around my forearms. For a few minutes, it was heaving back and forth, trying to get the other off balance while desperately trying to stay on one's own feet. Clarisse gave an almighty jerk, which knocked me off-kilter before I got my feet solidly on the ground. I pushed back with all my strength, which was marginally superior to Clarisse's, and to my surprise, she slid back a little. That only encouraged me, as now Clarisse was on the defensive in this period. After a strong push, I curved around her, jerking the daughter of Ares off her feet as I kept my grip, forcing her shoulders into the ground.

Chiron's whistle, which began a period, also ended this one, "The score is one-zero, in the favor of Perseus!"

Clarisse growled at me as we climbed to our feet again, and I smirked back. This time, after Chiron blew the whistle, Clarisse charged at me like a bull. Or should it be a boar? Whichever the animal, I stepped aside and grabbed Clarisse's arm as she passed, only to get jerked off my feet by the momentum. The grin on Clarisse's face told me that was her plan all along, but she was in the wrong position to exploit it. I was lying on my front, which meant the match wasn't ended. Clarisse was doing her level best to flip me while I was trying to get to my feet again. Realizing that venture was doomed to failure, I did a barrel-roll while holding Clarisse in her place above me. Now I was on my front on top of the daughter of Ares, in what could be considered a very lewd position should it have not been in Wrestling. Grunting, I started heaving Clarisse's arms, trying to flip her over. I jerked to the left as a feint, then threw my weight to the right as Clarisse still had my arms in a death grip. She spun on the ground, her shoulders pressed into the sandy floor.

"And Perseus is victorious, with Clarisse in second!" Climbing to my feet again, I bowed to the Senators before offering my hand to Clarisse. She spat in my general direction before stalking off. I shrugged good-naturdly before running back to Nemesis to change into a black t-shirt and black shorts, perfect attire for Knives. About an hour later, I headed to the Amphitheater, where Miranda was waiting in a white-button down shirt and and pants held up by a narrow black belt. _Beautiful as always, Lytvyn._

Nodding to each other -one of the few times we could still acknowledge each other for a while- we ascended to the stage side by side.

"For the final match in the knife-work competition, we have Perseus against Miranda. Perhaps the son of Nemesis will add a third victory to his list?" _Yeah, no._

We took our positions, the _pugio_ in my hand and a long, thin stiletto blade in her own.

"Begin!"

I started by holding back, then realizing I didn't need to for Miranda to win this. I barely blocked her blade on the tip of my _pugio_ before another slash came at me. I was forced onto the defensive by Miranda's amazing knife-work, retreating step by step around the Amphitheater. In fact, Miranda was the one holding back now, "Come on, Jackson, I taught you better than that."

Realizing what she was doing, I fought harder while Miranda slowed down just a little, putting her on the defensive -all for the audience, of course, and the patriarch sitting in it. A discrete hand gesture told me to go on the defensive again, backing up and barely blocking the withering hail of slashes the daughter of Nemesis rained upon me. Then, she decided to end it. A slash knocked my _pugio_ away from the stiletto blade she carried, which carved across my chest.

"Miranda is the victor!" We shook hands warmly -acknowledging her clear supremacy with that weapon- and separated. I bowed to the Senators before heading back to the Nemesis Cabin and changing for Spear-Fighting.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"The finalists in the Spear-Fighting competition- welcome Clarisse and Perseus!" Chiron gestured grandly to the two of us, who were walking up to the stage.

Clarisse looked like she was planning to get back at me for the wrestling match, but I wasn't too worried. _An angry mind is a narrow mind, after all._ Holding my _pila_ across my body in a defensive position, I awaited the bull-like charge that I knew was coming.

As soon as the _reet_ of the whistle rang across the Amphitheater, Clarisse rushed me, her spear out in a thrust. That, as I soon discovered, was a feint. I jumped away, barely avoiding the sweeping blow that followed the thrust, but came back with a vengeance. My _pila_ whistled only a few inches above her head as the daughter of Ares ducked, then I swept the spear downward and caught her on the shoulder.

We battled back and forth, both of us earning cuts and bruises for our efforts before the shaft of my _pila_ swept Clarisse off her feet. The daughter of Ares hit the ground with a thud, but rolled away before I could take advantage of her being there. While Clarisse rolled to her feet, I reversed my grip on the _pila_ so that the blunt end was pointed at her, then lunged. The rounded end of the _pila_ hit her in the stomach, forcing a grunt from the daughter of Ares. I spun the _pila_ in my hand, one end whipping around to crunch on Clarisse's head, knocking her unconscious.

"Perseus is victorious!" Chiron announced while a pair of Apollo campers rushed to Clarisse. I bowed to the Senators before striding off the stage, now proudly the winner of three competitions -and hopefully a fourth come the Swordsmanship final.

I headed back to my room, quickly changing clothes and taking a swig of nectar to heal the wounds Clarisse scored. From there, I went back to the Amphitheater, only to find that the Discus final was next. It was already over when I arrived, and people were heading to the Archery Range for both the Archery and Javelin finals. The Hunters won both of those -no surprise- Thalia with the bow and Pheobe with the javelins.

A few competitions later, it was finally time for Swordsmanship. I retrieved th_e gladius_ and _scrutum_ -the legionary shield- before heading back to the Amphitheater to face my competition: Declan Ross.

"The two finalists for the Swordsmanship competition are the Guardian of the Hunt and Perseus!" Chiron proclaimed. At this, the audience cheered. The Hunters were all cheering for Declan, but the Romans were cheering for me, while the Greeks were split about fifty-fifty. More importantly, the Consul raised a cup of wine to me in his own support, and his compatriots did the same.

"Until one is unable to continue . . . . . Begin!"

Both of us circled each other cautiously, our shields up and guards raised. I had almost endless patience to draw on, waiting for Declan to attack, but it looked like the son of Hecate had almost as much. _Come on, Declan, attack!_ The five minute mark passed before either of us attacked. In fact, we both started getting bored. And that simply had to change.

We kept pacing around each other until I stopped with the lowering sun right behind me. It was in the perfect position to shine in Declan's eyes and give me the slight advantage I needed to go on the offensive. I opened up with a feinted thrust, which turned into a parry for Declan's slash while our shields slammed together, the round hypaspist's shield against my own rectangular _scrutum_. We strained against each other for a few seconds, neither of us wanting to break the lock and receive the blindingly fast attack that would follow. Then I caught a break as Declan blinked from the sun in his eyes, spinning away and stabbing the gladius as his undefended back. Declan was fast, though, bending his arm so that the thrust slid off his shield, the only damage done being a superficial cut on his side.

We fought viciously, both scoring scores of cuts on each other's arms, legs, and chest. Going for the head would see us disqualified, and neither of us would accept that as an ending to the hardest duel I had ever fought. Parrying a diagonal slash, I replied with a thrust that Declan threw himself away from, only for his shield to swing out at me, forcing me to jump backwards desperately. I could feel Declan getting marginally slower and weaker as we were thirty minutes into the fight, but I was feeling the same. Blood soaked into my clothes from cuts all over my body, and the same was happening to Declan; we were just too evenly-matched and stubborn for their to be a clear victor.

Forty-five minutes into the duel, things started to become lethargic, my blade seeming to move slowly and Declan's even slower. Blood and sweat coated the hilt of my gladius, but Light's hilt was spotless. _Vampiric blade . . . hungry . . . Guardian . . . fury . . . control it . . . have to . . . end it . . . before . . . Dec . . . Light . . . . what? Light . . . hungry . . . blood . . . absorbs. . . fuels . . . rage. . ._

Light was the only thing keeping him upright, and there were only two things keeping me upright: The Consul, who was watching us intently, and a certain dark blonde sitting in the front row of seats, next to the Freethinker patriarch.

We fought on bitterly, our arms and legs becoming lacerated with wounds and our chests faring only slightly better. I was losing blood fast, and Declan wasn't doing any better. I was wavering on my feet while Declan was swaying gently back and forth like a drunkard. But we fought onward, heedless to the fact that we were probably killing each other, slowly and steadily in front of a huge audience. Then Declan started laughing, high and maniacal. My own laughter, harsh and deranged, joined him. _Declan . . . . Light. . . . Hunt . . . bullied. . . . insane. . . kill . . . Camp . . . punishment. . . .insane . . . Nereids. . . . insane. . . Light. . . . Declan . . ._

My arms ached with pain as we reached the hour mark, both from wounds and from exhausted muscles. Declan's shield was lying on the floor a ways behind him after a random slash from me cut it's arm strap. I had taken mine off like a good little Roman to even the odds, and it was on the floor a ways away. _Roman . . . . men . . . ha ha ha . . . . glen . . . den. . . . fen . . . wren . . . zen . . pen . . ._

I was about to comment on how funny the rhymes were, in the middle of furious dueling, when I realized my mouth wouldn't obey. An unbidden laugh escaped from my lips, unhinged and shrill.

This time, Declan's laughter joined mine, just as insane as we fought, Light's blade absorbing a mixture of Declan's blood through the hilt and my own through the blade.

Our swords were locked together, and we weren't straining against each other as much as we were just leaning against each other, to tired to think but too stubborn to halt.

"Stop! This match is over."

_What match? Catch . . . thatch . . . . hatch. . . . latch . . . .batch . . . scratch . . snatch . . . patc-_

I collapsed, my last sight being Declan's prone body before black fell over my world.

* * *

**A/N: So, you all know that Light can turn people insane, right? The way it works is the more blood/dust Light absorbs, the greater influence it has on the wielder. The insane-ness comes from the wielder's mind resisting Light and exhaustion. As for Perseus, my explanation for his delusions/craziness/lethargy is exhaustion and blood-loss (And Declan went weird as a combination of all the previous sentences). Oh, there was something I mentioned a few chapters ago with Shadow, but I didn't think I put it in a very good spotlight, and this is it: The Swords also strengthen the wielder in terms of endurance and staving off unconsciousness/death.**

** If any of you looked up singlet, I'm laughing at you right now. All the wrestlers wore a one of the more modest versions that you've probably seen.**


	13. Chapter 11- Roman Politicking

**A/N: Another thing about the plagerising/how ridiculous it is: I just read my _fifth_ Guardian story that had a new Hunter named Tracy who tries to protect the main character from pranks.**

Chapter 11- Roman Politicking

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I woke with a spread of raven hair over my chest, which was practically naked as the shirt I was wearing had more rends and holes in it than fabric. Every muscle in my body let out a dull ache that flared into a sharp pain when I moved, stroking Zoe's hair, "Hey."

Zoe bolted upright, "Thou has woken!"

"Yep." I groaned, "Wish I was still out."

I slowly sat upright as my muscles shrieked, "What -_urg-_ time?"

Zoe glanced downwards at a watch I was sure wasn't there that last time I saw her, "Six twenty. AM."

I groaned, "So I've been in here for what, twelve hours?"

"Eleven hours, fifty-three minutes." Zoe stated, "The Guardian is yet unconscious. Are thou sure they wants to move?"

"Very." I grunted as I swung my legs off the bed, "Wouldn't miss breakfast for the world."

I took a quick swig of nectar to help ease the pain before getting to my feet. As soon as I got my own two feet underneath me again, I swayed, feeling light-headed. Zoe grabbed my arm, steadying me, and not a moment too soon.

"How long did the duel last?" I asked, taking a few tentative steps with Zoe steadying me all along.

"Almost an hour and a quarter. Thou idiocy nearly cost thee thou life." Zoe sighed, "Thee lost nearly two-and-a-half liters of thy blood. Declan fared little worse."

"Who won?"

Zoe shoved me, "Thou nearly died, and all thee can think of is victory!"

"That's about right, yeah." I laughed, "So?"

"It was called a tie do to medical concerns."

I sighed. _Still, three out of five ain't bad._

We eventually made it to the Nemesis Cabin, with Zoe staying outside my room while I changed and stole a little Catholicon to complete the healing. Now freshly dressed and fully healed, I could walk without Zoe's support to breakfast, but that didn't stop her from staying next to me.

I sat at the Nemesis table amid looks of shock and awe. Miranda nodded cordially to me, and I smirked back. Zoe sat down at the Hebe table as I got some toast, apple juice, and cereal.

"So, what's up?"

"Other than you nearly killing yourself -and the Guardian- yesterday?" Sean asked, "Nothing. Artemis was a bit pissed after the duel, though, so we need some volunteers to re-stock the forest. The Satyrs are trying the heal the trees, but I think that's a lost cause. Bunker Nine has a crater in it's door now, and the entire thing's knocked off it's hinges."

I whistled. "IRL?"

"Yep." Olivia confirmed, "Cabin Nine was pretty pissed."

I talked and ate my way through breakfast, barely noticing the glares I got from the Hunt. _So, I can save all of their lives, but if I almost kill Declan, they hate me. Even if I almost died as well._

I gleaned from Sean and Olivia that the cabin schedule for today was "do whatever, but be at the Amphitheater at three o' clock." That in mind, I grabbed my _gladius_ and went down the the training arena, to tear apart a few dummies. The first one fell quickly to a flurry of thrusts, bringing back my memories of what happened yesterday at the duel, memories that I had been tamping down on. _Gods. . . I was rhyming in my head, in the middle of a duel? And laughing? Schist._

"Must get boring." It was Thalia, a few meters away from me. "Those dummies aren't hard."

"Yeah. Straw and wood. Thought you'd be all over me for the duel."

Thalia snorted, "You pulled my ass out of the fire twice. Want a challenge?"

"You?" I asked, turning.

"Hell, no. Guardian put me on the floor in a minute, flat. You're about as good." Thalia pulled something out of her pocket, "Catch."

It was a little canvas bag with a zipper on top, "What is it?"

"Your competition. Try opening it." Thalia suggested, a vicious gleam in her eyes.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" I asked, and Thalia nodded.

I yanked the zipper down, and with a pop, five bronze automatons appeared around me, armed with swords, spears, and clubs.

_Ah, schist._ I dodged a club before stabbing it's owner through the chest. The remaining four surrounded me, weapons swinging in from all sides. I ducked, picking up the club and smashing an automaton's head with it while parrying a spear with the _gladius_. _Two down, three to go_. One of the remaining automatons threw a spear, but I pulled one of his buddies in front of me as a shield before dispatching another with a brutal stab. Now weaponless, the spear-thrower charged me, fists swinging. Dropping my weapons, I caught the automaton's fist in my palm before twisting. The automaton's joints weren't meant for being twisted in that way, and with a shriek, the automaton's right arm jammed. It's left arm soon followed as I pushed it to the ground, drawing the _pugio_ from my waist and plunging it into it's chest.

"That was easy." I smirked.

"Yeah, _he_ usually practices on thirty to forty a day." Thalia smirked back.

"How is forty different than four?" I asked, "You only have room around your body for about four enemies, max. If all forty could attack you at once, it'd be different. But they can't, so the only difference between four or forty against one is endurance. Which both he and I have plenty of, although I have more."

"Really?" Thalia asked skeptically, "You fainted only a few seconds after _he _collapsed."

"He was carrying Light, and I am familiar with the workings of the blade. You've seen it's effects before, if the stories I've heard are correct. Whereas I didn't have Light, and still matched him." I pointed out, "Send me a few more of those pouches, and I can show you how similar five and forty are."

Thalia tossed me eight of the little bags, spawning forty automatons around me. They all pressed inwards at once, trying to get to me as I just blocked the four weapons that could actually swing at me at a time, "See? Need I kill all of them? It'd probably take longer for me, as I don't have the advantage of Light."

"Nah, Artemis'd be pissed if I let _you_ break all of these toys." Thalia started walking to the crowd of automatons, who were still attacking me, "Keep doing what you're doing. I'll get them back in bas eventually."

Over fifteen minutes after I spawned the hunks of bronze, Thalia got them all, barring ten, back in the pouches, "I'll take care of these."

I launched a blistering attack on one that was wielding a sword, my _gladius_ sinking into it's chest several times before it toppled into another automaton. Dropping the club, I drew my _pugio_ again to block a slash, the _gladius _becoming my method of attack as I felt another pair of eyes on me, these belonging to a certain Consul.

I stabbed a club-weilder in the throat before ducking a spear and dispatching it's owner. Stabbing my way through the rest of the dummies, I soon stood in the middle of a bunch of inert, bronze hunks.

"Bravo, bravo." The Consul approached, clapping.

"Consul Macintyre, I am honored that one as esteemed as yourself would take time to watch my training." I bowed low to one of the most powerful people in New Rome.

"Well, now you have one-up on me. You know my name, and I know not yours."

"Perseus Ekdikisi."

Macintyre glanced at Thalia, "You may leave, Hunter."

Thalia almost looked like she was going to object before a warning glance from me made her change her mind and leave.

"You fight like a Roman, Perseus, and you act like one." Macintyre stated, "You abandoned your _scrutum_ in the duel yesterday, as an honorable Roman would. You attacked first, with the advantages on your own side."

"I may be living in Camp Half-Blood currently, sir, but I am not Greek." I said, like it was a promise, "This was given to me by my father."

Sheathing the _gladius_, I took the ouroboros ring off my finger, showing it to the Consul, "He told me of Camp Jupiter, sir, of the Senate, and of the Legion."

"That ring signifies you are the heir to the fortune of your family." Macintyre said, "It is a rather large fortune. Your last name is not Ekdikisi, but Ouroboros."

"I know, sir, but I did not want anyone to think a rich person of me." I shrugged, "I got unlucky, however, ending up here. Fauns are all too fallible, sir, thinking me a Greek."

Macintyre sighed, "I wonder if these Greeks are right to employ such creatures, that make such a mistake to a son of Rome."

"I wonder as well, sir, and I would prefer to follow my ancestors footsteps than live out my life here." I gestured to the ground underneath my feet, "My great-grandfather and his wife left New Rome when he was seventy-two. Now I wish more than anything else to return to the home of my ancestors, sir."

Of course, my grandfather did nothing of the sort, wasn't even aware of this world, but all the Proctors belonged to the Ouroboros line, and most of them encountered New Rome at one point -though careful not to let anyone know just what they are.

"Your great-grandfather was a Senator, I believe." Macintyre said, looking at me intently.

"As I have said, sir, I wish to follow his footsteps. I would imagine the wealth that my family possess would be of great usefulness to the Freethinkers, sir." I said calmly.

"You wish to enter the political arena?"

"Sir, I have done well in the physical arena. All that varies are the kinds of thrusts and parries, sir." I smiled as I said this, "And, of course, the fact that the size of one's sword can change as their power does, sir."

"Well said." Macintyre chuckled, "The Freethinkers could us one of your wealth, and of your proud history."

"I would grateful to be given the chance to be one of your party, sir." I smiled charmingly, "The sooner I can become part of the Freethinkers, the sooner my wealth can be used for the good of New Rome."

"You speak well."

"Thank you, sir, for the compliment, although your position shows your speech is undoubtedly superior. You are a true man of the people." Now I was just flattering him.

"That I am, young Perseus. I shall expect you to return with us to New Rome. Be outside the stables at eight o' clock tomorrow, sharp." Macintyre ordered.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, sir." I waited for Macintyre to turn his back before I walked away as well, going back to the Nemesis Cabin. _Like I'd ever become one of those idiots. After two wars, New Rome's in a recession, the government in debt, and you respond by raising taxes and starting social programs? Raising taxes is a contractionary policy, and you aren't spending enough to compensate. Good thing I'll be a quaestor when shit hits the fan._

From there, I shoved a note under Miranda's door. _Back to snail-mail._ Checking my watch, I saw it was already two-fifty, meaning get over to the Amphitheater. Throwing on a leather jacket as I left my room, I climbed up the ladder and walked to the Amphitheater.

The seats were filled with the entire population of Camp Half-Blood, the Hunt, and the Romans. A little section was apparently for the people who won in the competitions, so I took a place about four seats from Miranda. A minute after I arrived, Chiron clopped up on stage, and there was a flash of light. When it returned to normal, there were fourteen chairs arrayed in a U shape around the hearth. The fourteen Olympians lounged in them, Dionysus already asleep and Venus looking through a fashion magazine, bored.

"We gather here to acknowledge and reward those who have the skill and courage to compete and be victorious in this year's Greco-Roman Games!" Chiron called, and those of us in the stands started to cheer, with seven exceptions: Miranda, Declan, the Senators, and I.

"So, without further ado, let us present the rewards!" Chiron announced, referencing a small sheet, "The victor of Swimming is . . . . . Perseus Ekdikisi!"

The crowd cheered as I went up to the stage, standing in front of Chiron as he pinned a medal -golden, in the shape of someone swimming- to my jacket. As I went back to my seat, Chiron called out the next person, "The victor of Archery is . . . . Thalia Grace!"

The crowd went wild again as the Hunter went up and got her own medal pinned to the Hunter's uniform, this one a golden bow.

"The victor of Discus is. . . . . Marcus Brown!"

"The victor of Javelin-Throwing is . . . . . Pheobe Nikos!"

A few more names were listed, then I got my Wrestling medal. A few names after that, Chiron put the list away, "There are two victors for Swordsmanship. Both are master swordsman, and nearly killed each other during yesterday's duel. They are. . . .Perseus Ekdikisi and the Guardian!"

The crowd went bananas after that, and I even saw Miranda clapping -_defiantly_ a plus.

Side by side, Declan and I both went up to the stage, where Chiron added a small, golden sword to my collection, with a mirror of the award being pinned on Declan's previously barren jacket. His ever-present hood, of course, was up. It never came down, but the crowd didn't care, howling and cheering.

Turning, I bowed to Macintyre and the other Senators before reclaiming my seat.

Zeus stood, and a hush fell over the crowd, "There is a great danger looming on the horizon. One who hates Olympus and all it stands for has returned, and must be defeated for the good of all. It is only known as Proctor, and I say it because we know not it's gender. For this quest, there will be the three children of most elder and powerful gods: Nico di Angelo, Jason Grace, and Thalia Grace. In one week, these questers will begin their hunt, and put an end to an enemy who has threatened Olympus for millenia."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

It was seven fifty-nine AM the next day when I arrived at the stables. Miranda had read the note I had left her, and replied with one of her own. She was going to New Rome as well, where the man she was manipulating would become her patron -and a powerful one at that. Jason was the leader of the quest, and had consulted with Rachel as well as Ella, but the prophecy they issued wasn't shared with the whole camp.

Most of the Romans were either there or arrived at about the same time as I did, then the Senators approached in their togas once more. Unlike the Centurions, these Senators wore the toga with elegance and formality.

I heard someone send an Iris-Message, and a few seconds later we were in New Rome. The Legionaires that were part of the group immediately split off, Reyna at their head. Then the rest of the Romans split away, heading to different places. Miranda was following the patriarch somewhere else while I took a few seconds to orient myself. Once I knew where I was, I turned and walked up the cobblestone street, turning left at the first intersection then left again until a large building loomed in front of me. The NRSB: New Roman Saving Bank. This was one of the two banks in New Rome, mostly handling the bank accounts of individuals or families while it's sister -New Roman Commerce Bank- catered to businesses and Senators.

It was a grand building, Victorian with a frieze of the Olympians crowning the roof. Inside, it was entirely wood and glass. Beams held up the ceiling while the tellers sat in cedar booths. Finding the nearest open one, I walked over. The teller, a fifty-some man, looked up, "Yes?"

"I would like to open the Ouroboros family account." I said.

The teller looked surprised for a moment before quickly covering it up, "Very well, I will need the ring and pin number."

"Of course. Here is the ring, and the pin number is five-seven-three-nine-five-six-two-eight." I listed off the top of my head.

"Very good, sir. Your current balance is -of course- confidential, but you may access it with an app on any IPhone or IPod. In addition, you may also be issued a credit card and other items to ease access."

"When can I get those items?" I asked.

"If you wish to procure a credit card, sign these forms. For a debit card, sign these. For a charge card, sign these, and for a cash card, sign these." The teller gestured to four different stacks of paperwork. I grabbed the stack pertaining to a credit card before sitting down on a bend and discretely.

The sheets were the usual stuff, and attached to them was a voter registration form which I also filled out before handing it back to the teller.

"Very good, sir. If you would please take a seat, we will have your credit card momentarily." The teller glanced at the forms before walking off.

"Momentarily" turned out to be over half an hour, but I didn't mind in the slightest. After all, I had nothing else to do today, except for renting the room right next to Miranda's in the apartment where she was staying.

The teller came back with the forms and a small, plastic bag, "Here you are, sir. If you have any trouble or suspicions of theft, call us and follow the process on page thirty-seven. Oh, and how would you rate your service today?"

_Better start making friends_. I smiled, "Satisfactory, bordering on excellent."

"Thank you, sir." The teller dipped his head to me in respect before heading back to his booth. Taking out my IPhone and connecting to the wi-fi -NRSB-fi- I quickly found the app the teller was talking about a downloaded it, testing it on the ring. It took a picture, apparently using some kind of pattern software to match my ring to the one they had on file. An affirmative beep prompted me to enter my pin, which I did. Then it revealed me balance, which was _massive_, about half the size of the Proctor account on Olympus. This one, however, wasn't growing. If I wanted more funds in it, I'd have to transfer them from the Proctor account. Not that I'd need more money in a million life-times with even a _hundredth_ of the money in there.

A quick search on the Roman equivalent of Google Maps led me to Confluence Apartments, where I -still using the IPhone- rented out about half the apartments on Miranda's floor under the guise of a family reunion between some people here and other Romans that went into the mortal world. _Good thing I can do this over the phone. The landlord would get a bit suspicious if an almost-nineteen year old showed up to pay for it._ But -more importantly- they all had a few characteristics: No smoking and fifth floor. The only fifth floor apartment unoccupied and with the no smoking sign was the one right next to Miranda. Of course, if I went in right now it might arose some suspicion. So I did the next best thing: Went shopping.

My first stop was a library, and it was _huge_. Wooden shelves curved around freely, holding thousands of books. I wandered around, looking for a specific thing that I wasn't even sure _was_ a book before I ran into one of the librarians.

"Sorry." I apologized, "But I'm looking for a reference book on current and past laws for a college project?"

"Ah, I remember when I was that young." He was a seventy-ish man, with white hair and a kind face, "You'll find it three stacks down, and about the middle. Forgive me if I don't take you there, my limbs are creaking again. Let me give you a tip, youngster: Don't get old."

I laughed, heading for the book I sought. It was simply called the Register, a massive binder containing dates and titles of laws, acts, referendums, edicts, social reforms, and everything else since New Rome was founded. I leafed through the most recent portion, looking at everything the Freethinkers had done while summoning a sheet of paper and a pencil. _If I'm gonna enter the Senate, I'd better have a good speech. One that shows the Senate I'm not just another voter, but doesn't make me a target. One that points out the Freethinker's mistakes, but doesn't give them a cause for vengeance. What's this? Forming the Faunus Working Commission? Everyone knows fauns don't work. . . .maybe there's a reason for that._

I flipped back in the book before realizing it was hopeless. There were millions of titles, and if they were arranged chronologically I would have to look at every one. So instead, I turned to the stacks around me. They all were packed with books, each one having the fine print of a title in this book. And these were arranged alphabetically. _Let's see . . . . F . . . . FA . . .Faun . . Faun. . . Ah, here we go. The Faun Commercial Standards? _

It was a set of rules for the fauns to work, and were completely ridiculous. Fur must be exactly two centimeters long, horns must be between five point five and six inches, tails must be two inches exactly. _In short, no fauns can work. And they created a Faunus Working Commission to help working fauns for rights and unions. Except there are no working fauns! Perfect._

_Fellow Senate members, I am only a quaestor, but perhaps I can help. . ._ That piece was crumpled up and thrown into a nearby waste bin before I summoned another. _Fellow Senators, I have a proposal-_ More paper in the bin. _My fellow Senators, I believe there is a grave-_ I missed, catching the rim before the ball of paper fell out._ Senators, I stand here today as a quaestor . . . hmm, this might work._

* * *

**Time Skip: 2 weeks.**

**Percy's POV**

"Fellow Senators, I stand here today as a quaestor, and I see men of great renown and dignity. Yet, I am afraid that we, the Senate, are the laughingstock of Rome-"

"Change the beginning of that sentence to 'I have heard that we are all the laughingstock of New Rome." Miranda said, "Never say you are afraid. Say you are in question, say you are in doubt, but never be afraid."

"Good point. So, who is your patron, anyways?" I asked while erasing that section.

"Auralius Scott. Wealthy, former censor, father of a bitch and husband to a dead wife." Miranda replied, "His agreement is that I would enter the Treasury and help him however I can there; In return, he helps me advance. If I impress him, he may eventually disown his daughter and adopt yours truly."

"Oh, so you're mine now?" I asked mockingly, looking up from the sheet of paper.

Miranda scowled, "I have a knife with your name on it, Jackson."

I threw up my arms in mock surrender, laughing uproariously. Miranda started laughing as well, her flawless blue eyes sparkling. It was much later when I finally turned my attention back to the speech.

"So, I suspect that we are -all of us- the laughingstock of New Rome. Only four months ago, this esteemed chamber passed a bill that created the Faunus Working Commission, which would help working fauns to organize unions and procure working rights. But there are no working fauns, the product of a act passed in this very chamber, detailing the working standards for fauns! I propose, as it is a quaestor's job to oversee the finances of the Republic, that we dissolve the Commission and re-invest the money it stole from our budget into the people!"

"Is that it?" Miranda asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's the part that's going to start a debate, hopefully." I shrugged, "There's more, and a few other versions that I can use."

"Leave them with me, Jackson. You may be the better politician, but I have monitored the Senate for longer than you. Six o' clock PM tomorrow, on the dresser." Miranda ordered.

I nodded, submitting to her authority and experience, "Got it. How's your job?"

Miranda shrugged gracefully, "Still entry-level, but my superiors are already commenting on my skills and commitment. A promotion will come soon, if Auralius wishes me to be of any use."

"That's good. Tell me if you need anything. Money, a dead higher-up, some threats." I smiled, "All's fair in Politics and War."

Miranda smiled and made a shooing motion with her hand. I smiled back before disappearing into the shadows, coming out on the other side of the wall I had walked into. My apartment was mostly empty: The kitchenette well-stocked with peanut butter, bread, and cereal -basically everything I ate these days- while the wooden table that dominated that side of the room was barren. On the other side of the room, there were a few chairs around a TV, which was running the news non-stop. If anything happened, I needed to know about it. Elections to the Senate were about a month away, which left me free most of the day to brush up on any weapons I might've lost my edge on, comb through the Register for anything I could use and plan for a string of actions I needed to take once I entered the Senate. _This needs to work, or the plan's over before it begins._

The wall furthest from me was adorned with a massive map, with a pin stuck in Montana. As I watched, it disappeared, re-appearing in Nevada. Daedalus had worked something into the sheath I had given Declan, so the pin and I always knew -and tracked- where they were. Alongside it, I posted a map of Mount Olympus and the Underworld, where the pin would go if the Hunt wasn't on Earth.

_Now, I have some work to do._

* * *

**Time Skip: 25 Days. (39 since Percy got to New Rome)**

**Percy's POV**

I was walking back to my apartment from the library when some either really bad or possibly good happened: A voice cried for help.

It was midday, so there shouldn't be any real mugging. That just meant this would be all the worse. I ran towards the sound, which led me to the lake at the end of the Little Tiber.

Lying on the sand was a pale, blond-haired male about the same age as I was. He was wearing a toga that was ripped in a dozen places, and a purple cape rested beside him on the sand. As he cried for help, I could hear a note of shrillness that I knew all too well. _Octavian? But he's dead, or should be at least._

Unfortunately, I wasn't the first one there. A pair of burly Legionaries grabbed him by the arms, bringing him to his feet. By now, a small crowd was developing as they watched the former _pontifex maximus_ get taken away. Finding a secluded corner, I shadow-traveled back into my room. Minutes later, the news changed.

"It appears that the notorious Senator and idealist Octavian has washed up on the shores of New Rome after thought dead for over a year!" The man announced, "The Praetors have refused to comment, other than announcing the trial to be held later today. What remains to be seen is Octavian's motives. Was he a tyrant, seeking to destroy our Greek allies, or a man who did his best to keep New Rome safe? Stay tunned, 'cause I'm sure we'll have more."

_Damn. I need to see that trial._

I jogged over to the Senate building. It was open to the public, as always, so I went in and took one of the forward seat. I couldn't miss this trial, and since I had nothing else to do for the afternoon, I waited. My head drooped a few minutes in, then I fell asleep.

_I was in a cave, deep underwater. Octavian was sitting on the floor, facing a nymph. He had grown more muscled and filled out, looking like a normal Legionnaire instead of a scarecrow._

"_Go, Octavian. It is time." The nymph said, her voice melodious and calm, "Your mind has been healed, and you have learnt humility."_

"_I cannot thank you enough, Melissa." Octavian replied, his face full of sorrow, "What I did, I cannot fathom. Gaea took my mind, used me for her own purposes. You helped me, knowing what I did."_

"_I do not believe in punishing the innocent, Octavian." Melissa leaned forward, kissing Octavian, "Now leave. The moment you leave this cave, you will be in the Little Tiber. Do not lose hope, even when all hope seems lost. I love you, Octavian."_

"_And I, you." Octavian spun with surprising agility underwater, and swam out of the entrance to the cave. Immediately, the current ripped him away, but the legacy of Apollo swam strongly to the shore. But his troubles didn't end there, as the current whipped him away before he climbed up. He swam for what seemed like hours, trying to get to the shore. The current flung him back every time, but he didn't give up._

_Snarling, the legacy of Apollo tore off the purple cape and tried to rip the toga from his body. The cape fluttered away, but the toga simply tore. This attempt, he clawed his was onto the beach, the cape washing up beside him._

"_Help me . . . . . please. . . . help." Minutes later, two strong, First Cohort Legionnaires picked him up, throwing him into a cell after taking him across the city. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone and shivering._

The _thunk_ of the gavel woke me as the trial started.

"We gather here today to determine Octavian's role in the latest Giant War. The accused has refused a government-provided attorney, he will defend himself. Accused, do you have anything to say?"

Octavian stood from the wooden bench he sat on, "No, your Honor."

"Very well." the Praetor presiding over the trial turned to the jury, "Jury, do you have anything you wish to say?"

"No, your Honor."

"Very well. Octavian Jacques Delozier, you have been accused by the State of second degree manslaughter, conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder, treason and general misconduct in the Legion." the Praetor looked around, "Are there any charges the State wishes to add?"

The State's attorney, a thirty-ish man with black hair and a trim brown suit stood, "No, your Honor."

"Very well. Accused, do you have anything to say to refute those claims?" the Praetor turned to Octavian again.

"Yes, your Honor. I wish to say that I was not in my right mind at the time those grievous crimes were committed. I would wish to tell my story, before the court, so that the State may ask clear questions concerning my innocence."

"Objection, your Honor." The State attorney stood.

"Over-ruled." the Praetor replied immediately, "Accused, continue."

"On that terrible day, I fired the onager. The Imperial Gold in my robes were attracted to the same metal in the onager shell. I was pulled up into the air as the shell flew, but at a much slower speed. Above me, there was a great flash of light and a wave of heat as it detonated. The explosion flung me downward, into the canoe lake." Octavian, using his masterful oratory skills, was keeping the audience entranced, "I sank through the murk, believing I would die, then I gazed upon my salvation. A sea nymph, Melissa, took my into her home and cast a magic on my so I may breath. She nursed me back to health, the beautiful melody of her song healing my mind from Gaea's ravaging influence. Melissa bid me not to return, and so I stayed. I trained with my _gladius_, hoping that one day, I would return here. Then, earlier today, Melissa told me it was time. She said, the moment I left her home, I would be in the Little Tiber. We kissed, and I left with her blessing."

"Then the current struck, driving me around like a ball in a hurricane. I struggled against it before I realized what was holding me back: The symbols of the unlawful power I gained. I ripped off the cape, and did the same for as much of my toga as I could. Then, and only then, I made it to shore." Octavian's eyes were filled with unshed tears, probably for Melissa, "So now, I can only ask for your mercy. I swear, on the River Styx, that I would never commit the acts that I did if I was sane."

Thunder boomed in the background, but the Praetor looked unimpressed, "Irrelevant. Oaths on the Styx are not considered evidence in this court, due to the Lyconthrope Clause of the Voting Reform Act of eight hundred fifty three BCE."

It sounded like something he had said many times. Octavian sat down calmly, unruffled by the Praetor's words.

"The State wishes to bring in it's first witness." The attorney said.

"Go ahead."

Micheal Kahale stepped into the court room, sitting in the witnesses chair.

"Are you Micheal James Kahale?" The attorney asked, "And do you swear to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes and yes." Micheal replied.

"How long have you known Octavian?"

"Seven years, to present."

"In those years, has he ever exhibited behavior to suggest that he was mentally unhinged?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Almost a year and three months ago, as of now. That behavior continued until his presumed death."

"Describe it."

"It started out small. Octavian would snap at others more than usual. It steadily became more and more deranged. He began to use actual animals for his sacrifices, claiming he could see the will of the gods more clearly through them. Then, he became ravenously hungry for power. This was unlike the Octavian I knew. That Octavian knew where his place was in society. He knew he had a place in the Senate, and he had great patience. He started taking anything anyone said as an insult. At this time. The Argo II opened fire on New Rome, controlled by the late Leo Valdez. Octavian, seeing an opportunity, seized power and directed the hate towards all the Greeks. Again, very unlike him. The Octavian I had known would have tried to tamp down on the power of the crowd, but the insane Octavian whipped it up. The insane Octavian drafted hundreds of _auxilias_ to bolster our troops, also unlike the sane Octavian. Lastly, he ordered complete destruction of Camp Half-Blood, something a sane man would never do."

"Would you say he conscripted the monsters with full knowledge of the havoc they would wreck?"

"I would say that Gaea knew. No monster would follow a demigod with such a stronger master present, and I believe that Octavian was not in willing control of his actions. Gaea kept enough of his personality to fake him, and tamped down on the rest."

"You avoided answering the question."

"No, I believe Octavian did not know. I also believe that the fault of these crimes should rest on myself, and all the Legionnaires."

"Explain."

"I did not take action, seeing Octavian descent into madness, nor did anyone else. Octavian could make a case of severe neglect and disregard for troops under his/her command against Reyna or Jason. We allowed it to happen, and thus we are guilty of conspiracy to commit murder and treason as well. If that trial ever takes place, I will plead guilty, as there are no other alternatives."

Octavian looked shocked at this, but his features smoothed over quickly.

The attorney looked furious, his planned easy victory going out the window, "Objection, your Honor."

"On what grounds, exactly?" the Praetor asked, looking amused.

The attorney turned three shades of purple as he realized he _couldn't_ object to the proceedings, "Nothing, your Honor."

"Mr. Kahale, we are done questioning you." the Praetor said, "State, do you wish to call in any more witnesses?"

"No, your Honor."

"Accused, do wish to call any witnesses?"

"Yes, your Honor. May Nico di Angelo or William Solace take the bench?" Octavian asked. Nico, unlike Micheal, wasn't on standby, so a runner was summoned to send him an Iris-Message. A few minutes later, both Nico and Will walked in, red-faced and breathing somewhat heavily. Their clothing looked a wrinkled and hastily put on, which could leave anyone to guess what they were doing.

"Nico di Angelo, please take the witnesses bench." the Praetor said.

Nico complied, "I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"Are you Nico di Angelo, son of Hades?" the Praetor asked.

"I am."

"Were you present at what were believed to be Octavian's final moments?"

"I was."

"Would you describe him, in those moments, to me?"

"Mad. Insane. Frothing at the mouth. Over the moon. He believed he would become the savior of this city if he destroyed Gaea, and he was willing to go to any length to turn that dream into a reality."

"Do all of Octavian's actions make sense to a sane man?"

"No. Octavian drafted hundreds of _auxilia _troops to fight us, but he already outnumbered us by a good margin. Why would one take troops that he couldn't control and didn't need?"

Nico was dismissed, and Will practically mirrored Nico's words.

"Does the jury wish to convene?" the Praetor asked, turning to the seven men and women who were all looking at Octavian intently.

"Yes, your honor." The jury left, to talk amongst themselves while the rest of us waited. I was studying Octavian, and I could sense the debate going on in the juries heads: _Public opinion, or the statements of the witnesses?_

An hour passed. Two. Three, then finally the jury came back. The presiding Praetor polled them. Guilty. Not guilty. Not guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Not guilty. The last juror was quiet for a long while, then spoke, "Not guilty."

"Octavian Delozier, by ruling of the jury, is innocent off all charges leveled against him. End session."

The crowd erupted with shouts as Octavian was taken away, unchained and free. I followed him covertly as a few Legionnaires and _lictors_ kept the crowd of maybe thirty back. Octavian must've known his ancestral home was taken by the government, since he didn't go there. Instead, he went somewhere else, probably to one of his supporters. The door was slammed in his face, but Octavian walked off again, undaunted. House after house either refused him entry or refused to even acknowledge him. Octavian didn't have his bank account either, and all his assets were frozen. _So, no buddies and no hotel. Where will you go?_

To my surprise, he turned back to the Little Tiber, sitting cross-legged on it's bank as he looked into the water. So unlike the arrogant prick I knew.

I walked up until I was right behind him, "Octavian?"

"Yes?"

"Stay with me for the night. Frost's coming, and you don't have the clothes or shelter you'd need to survive the night." I offered. Octavian's head turned, surprised, as I gave him a hand up.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir."

"Think nothing of it." I took him back to the apartment, where I gave him my bed and made up a cot for myself, "Sleep now, I have something to discus with you in the morning."

_And I'm going to let you stew on it all night. _

A dreamless sleep fell over me as I laid down on the cot, which was a welcome change.

I woke up at four o' clock as usual the shadow-traveled into a dark alley near the grocery store, conveniently called "Ceres' Cupboard." Once inside, I bought some things I'd need to make an actual, warm breakfast. Some eggs, bacon, and bagels. _After all, I should make a good last meal for my guest. If he doesn't take the offer, he'll be on the street and dead in a month._

I started up the gas stove, cooking the eggs sunny-side up while on another pan, the bacon sizzled. The bagels were in the toaster cooking. I ate my half of the breakfast while keeping Octavian's warm in the oven. To my surprise, he came out only a few minutes after my breakfast was finished.

"Morning, Octo. Mind if I call you Octo?"

Octavian sighed, "Would saying no stop you from calling me that?"

"No." I laughed, sliding the plate in front of him.

"Didn't think so. Thanks, by the way."

"Now, Octo, I have a proposition for you." I sat down at the table across from him with my fingers laced behind my head.

Octavian swallowed some egg before replying, "And what would that be? Sexual favors? That's practically the only thing I have left."

"Nah, I don't swing that way, and my girlfriend would kill me if she heard you say that."

"Hmm, maybe later." Miranda replied. _Aw, shit._

"How did you get in here and why did you come?" I asked.

Miranda smirked, "Please. That lock wouldn't keep out a five-year old, and I thought you might need a little help with your bed warmer here."

I groaned, "Anyways, Octo, I know you still have some say in the Fundamentalists. So, how much does it take to buy a quaestorship?"

"One million. _Denarii_, round." Octavian smirked, clearly not believing I had that kind of money.

"I'm generous, I'll give you three." I smirked back, "The house you have to buy and your debts'll probably eat most of that up. So, three mil for a quaestorship, what do you say?"

"When do I get the money?"

"A third in advance, two thirds when I'm elected." I replied instantly, not leaving any wiggle room.

"Deal."

* * *

**Time Skip: Five Days (44 since Percy got to New Rome)**

**Percy's POV**

"Fellow Senators, I stand here today as a quaestor, and I see men of great renown and dignity. And yet, I suspect that we are -all of us- the laughingstock of New Rome. Only four months ago, this esteemed chamber passed a bill that created the Faunus Working Commission, which would help working fauns to organize unions and procure working rights. But there are no working fauns, the product of a act passed in this very chamber, detailing the working standards for fauns! I propose, as it is a quaestor's job to oversee the finances of the Republic, that we dissolve the Commission and re-invest the money it stole from our budget into the people!"

The Senate chamber erupted into shouts, dozens of Senators on their feet and the bang of the gavel brought them to order and an uneasy silence descended over the room.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update. I had finals, then my parents decided to tell me they're divorced. On a brighter note, I have a 3.9 GPA.**


	14. Chapter 12- The Trial

**A/N: Wow. This ended up being a _lot _longer than I expected, and most of it is politics. I hope this is a novelty for you guys, or you'll all hate me for putting politics in a story. And wow, 10,828 words is a long chapter. This comes out as 23 pages in my word editor.**

Chapter 12- Another Trial

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"The Senate recognizes Censor Carmen." The presiding Consul today was my old "friend" Macintyre, who was looking at me strangely.

"I must urge the Senate to be cautious. Fauns are afforded the same rights as you or I, so they must be given the same opportunities. Fauns _must _be given to opportunity to create unions." _Freethinker to the last, eh?_

The Censor took a seat again as Macintyre spoke, "The Senate recognizes Quaestor Ouroboros."

I stood, facing all the Senators alone. The Senate Chamber was basically a gigantic U, with a podium in the opening. The Honorary Praetors sat behind and lower then the Consuls on the podium. Frank looked like he was sleeping while Reyna was barely paying attention.

I gathered my thoughts before I spoke, "Censor Carmen, the Faunus Working Commission isn't ridiculous because the fauns aren't human. In fact, I resent the implication that I might be so bigoted as to refuse those with human intelligence human rights. No, it is simply a waste of resources to have a Commission with a staff that has simply nothing to do! No unions to organize, no benefits to wrangle, and not even a goat _hair_ in sight!"

I sat down again as Macintyre spoke again, "The Senate recognizes Pro-Censor Scott."

Miranda's patron stood, "Quaestor Ouroboros, you talk of dissolving the Commission and yet, you do not propose any plan at all once it is dissolved. Are you planning for the money to go straight into your pocket?"

After Scott sat, Macityre spoke yet again, "The Senate recognizes Quaestor Ouroboros."

"As it seems most of the chamber is set out to insult me and my good name, I will say this: Let us dissolve the Commission and lower the taxes of the people, to encourage growth and prosperity. I have no need to siphon off money from the Treasury's pockets, Jupiter knows they are thin enough already." I smiled as most of the chamber turned, glaring at the nearest Freethinker, "Nothing is more important than the people's prosperity, and perhaps a slightly smaller government is the way to accomplish that."

I sat again, among some Freethinker shouting before the gavel came down again with a _bang._

To my surprise, what I said wasn't dismissed out of hand, instead being taken up by the NRLC, the Centrists that were tired of the Freethinker's ways, and the Fundamentalists who wanted to get on the NRLC's good side.

The debates lasted well into the afternoon and a tentative act was formed, the gist of it being this: Kill the Commission and shove their budget into the Workplace Safety Commission. All the while, notes were being scribbled by the _Times New Roman_, the only newspaper in New Rome

The Senate closed at six o' clock PM, having convened at nine o' clock AM. Nine hours a day locked in that chamber . . .

Fortunately, as I was actively part of the government, I could bring my work in with me. Basically meaning charts tracking the economy, the budgets of all the Commissions and Departments in the bureaucracy, and other assorted ding-dongs.

As soon as the Senate day was over -if it ever was- I was approached by an NRLC low-ranker. He was about thirty-four, with brown hair, brown eyes and strong features. He was good-looking enough, but definitely not handsome or hot. Not especially strong, either.

"Hello, Pro-Tribune." I said. All Senators had a little pin of office, along with whether they were currently holding that office, "What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me your affiliation."

"I thought I made it clear in the convening." I replied, keeping my voice level.

"You made it clear you didn't approve of the Freethinker's radicalism." The man snorted, "That is not an affiliation; that is good sense."

"I am libertarian, and will vote with the NRLC." I held his gaze steadily, black eyes meeting brown ones.

"Nice to have you with us." The man smiled, "Jonas Brunofsky."

He held out his hand, which I shook, "Perseus Ouroboros."

"Yeah, I know. Did my research: One of the richest people in New Rome with no stigma, no family, no attachments." Jonas looked me over with a critical eye, "Which makes you either useful or dangerous, and definitely a loose cannon."

"I think I'm all three. My money's useful, and I didn't get three medals in the Greco-Roman Games by being pretty." My grin changed, becoming shark-like, "As for the loose cannon, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

By then, three Senators who were listening in reached three very different people. The heads of the parties updated their lists for the ten new elected today, with Macintyre raising a wine glass in a salute to the person who very neatly played him. Macintyre leaned back in his chair, far from the Senate Chamber, his mind whirring with a dozen plans to show the uppity new quaestor who's boss.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I groaned as I got up the next day, a few motions on my IPhone sending the rest of the three million to Octavian as promised. An issue of the _Times New Roman _was shoved under the door by an unseen hand. I picked it up, flipping to the politics section, eating breakfast as I read it.

* * *

**4/12/2017: New Blood?**

_Yesterday, a newly elected quaestor, Perseus Ouroboros, pointed out several laughable oversights in the Bureaucracy, namely the Faunus Working Commission -when there are no working fauns! Macintyre and the rest of the Freethinker party was quick to try to refute his claims, but by the end of the day, there was the tentative skeleton of a bill to dissolve the laughable Commission and instead invest the money in workplace safety._

_When asked about this outside of the Senate Chamber, Quaestor Ouroboros said these words:_

"_The Faunus Working Commission is a flaw in a recent Freethinker act, something I believe was brought on by the Bureaucracy being bloated with dozens of unnecessary employees. I believe that a smaller, stronger government can best fit the needs of the people by being adaptable and quick to respond, where a large government that the Freethinkers support would topple under it's own weight while we all pay the price. The welfare of the people is the supreme law, and I am eager to serve them in any way I can. Currently, we are in a recession that has been only made worse from the Freethinker's higher taxes. As a quaestor, it is my duty to help right the financial state in the only effective way: Lowering taxes and minimizing unnecessary funding."_

_Bold words indeed from a young man in a Freethinker-dominated government. When asked of how the Freethinkers will react, he says this:_

"_If I'm painting a target on my back, that means the words I say go in the newspaper, where the people of New Rome may see a politician that is working for them. If I get discredited in a Freethinker-engineered scandal, then so be it. I'm out for the people, and no amount of money will change that."_

* * *

Someone -Miranda- had circled the "dissolve the laughable Commission" and wrote her congratulations next to it. Smiling, I tucked it away before preparing myself for the day ahead: Getting the latest charts, seeing the latest news and combing it for ammunition against the Freethinkers, Centrists, or Fundamentalists. I had purchased a copy of the Register a few weeks ago; That went with me, along with a digital copy of every single thing mentioned in the Register, so everything. Lastly, I started putting on the toga, checking it in the mirror to make sure it was perfect.

Finally ready, I headed for the Senate Chamber which was in the center of the city. The next hours were filled with point and counterpoint. Some of the Freethinker Senators seemed to have it out for me, but the NRLC -while small- was just as adept at politicking as the Freethinkers. Some of the Centrists also defended me, to my surprise.

One of the best parts came a few hours in, "Quaestor Ouroboros, you speak of being for the people, but what have you ever done for them?"

It wasn't Macintyre but some big-shot Fundamentalist businessman, one of the party bosses. _Tuft, isn't it? Steven Tuft?_

"The Senate recognizes Quaestor Ouroboros."

"Not much, but at least I haven't passed laws and acts that let me fake giving money to orphanages and the homeless for a bit of philanthropy. Oh, look here 'donations to various causes can be demanded to be routed through the Treasury to make sure of it's security. In this time, the donations will be held in the donator's name.' Like it? You should, you passed a few years ago, when the Fundamentalists were in power."

I pretended to keep looking, then pretended to be surprised, "Oh, and this is even better 'Money titled to a Senator that is held by the Treasury can be demanded to be removed with a small holder's fee. This transaction would be protected by confidentiality agreements, and thus not regulated or surveyed' That was passed around the same time, and since then, you have made several very large donations to some very poor orphanages and homeless shelters to get a few deductibles off of your income taxes. And yet, it's a matter of public record to see that the only _denarii_ that made it to it's final destination, and a small amount at that, went to one headed by one of your former colleagues. Look at this: One-hundred thousand _denarii_, donated to Simpson Housing Homeless Shelters. Oh, it went into the Treasury . . . . and disappeared. And here's another, twenty thousand _denarii_. Here's fifty. Man, those places must be rolling in to dough. Wait, they aren't. How odd."

I sat down, content with Tuft's face turning twenty shades of purple in rage. _Like that? You see, I can bring this in. You can't._

A few agonizing hours later, the session ended with Jonas walking over again.

"That took balls. He's the big-shot in business here."

"So? I have much more money as he does, and I can always go out into the mortal world if me makes trouble. Besides, now the public'll tear him apart. Another good hit could dissolve the entire party." I bared me teeth, "And leave us to pick up the pieces."

"Possibly." It was a new voice, from right behind me. I spun on a dime, only to see the head of the NRLC facing me: Jacqueline White.

Jacqueline White was a sixty-something women with severely-cut silvery hair and sharp green eyes. Her high cheeks hinted at the beauty she was in her youth, but her mind was as sharp as a _pugio_. Her eyes were cold and calculating, the same eyes that I had seen in Macintyre, Miranda, and myself.

"Pro-Consul White." I said, bowing my head in respect, "What leads you to grace me with your presence?"

"Save the flattery, Perseus, I don't have time for it." White's eyes seemed to pierce mine, "What you did today took spirit. Everyone in the chamber knew what Tuft was doing, and yet no one spoke. Do you know why?"

"Yes. Tuft is a major shareholder in quite a few big companies here. A few words and some bribes, then those companies start putting pressure on wherever your own funding's coming from, freezing it." I smiled, "But I have my own funding."

"Correct. You have no loyalties, no history, and no one can pressure you. You do not even have a significant other. This makes you a perfect vehicle for exposing uncomfortable truths, and what you have said today will make it onto the front page. I have made sure of that." The corners of her mouth twitched upward in what _might_ have been a smile, "But you must not draw that much attention again for the near future. Yesterday was a shocking entry speech that should be commended. Today should not give you too much trouble, as Tuft is not held in a high regard. However, If you continue in this trend all those with dirty secrets will start trying to get you away, discredit you. Tomorrow, counter points yourself only if absolutely necessary. The rest of the NRLC will do the heavy lifting."

"Of course, Mrs. White."

"As long as you say "Of course, Mrs. White." everything's fine. Don't change." This time, she actually smiled, then turned and walked away, her shoes clinking on the cold stone floor.

"Not many NRLC get personal visits from Mrs. White on their second day." Jonas commented as we walked away, "A piece of advice? You'd better have a _very_ good reason for disobeying her orders, if your ever do. Anything less, and you're toast."

_Anything less, and I kill her._ "Personal experience?"

Jonas nodded, "Yeah, same year I got my first quaestorship. A pro-tribune tried to seize control of the party, and a few days later, all he had left were the clothes on his back."

I winced, "Ouch."

"Ouch is right. You step on her toes, she'll cut off your feet. _Before _cutting your throat."

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I was ambushed by the press right outside of the Senate Chamber, which kept me tied up for close to an hour before I broke soon as I got home, I checked my Hunt-tracing map. _Good, still in Nevada. No news is most definitely good news._

I finished my "work" while having a peanut-butter sandwich for dinner, forging what I thought would happen in the economy and starting on suggestions on next year's budget. Those suggestions would have to refined and changed endlessly throughout the year, but one always needed something to do.

After that, I shadow-traveled down to the Underworld, using the training room to practice with a sword that was a near-perfect copy of Shadow, just without the powers.

A few hours after that, now soaked in sweat and panting, I showered off before falling asleep.

"_Declan, get on duty! I have to do something tonight." Artemis called as the rest of the Hunters started filing into their respective tents._

_Declan shrugged, bringing a chair out of a tent and whistling. A few seconds later, a small drakon ran into the camp, small meaning about half the size of an eighteen-wheeler._

"_Hey, Dracul. How are you?" To my surprise, Declan patted the drakon on the head before scratching it on the neck, "Like that? Yeah, bet you do."_

_The drakon made a hiss that sounded suspiciously like purring before racing off into the woods._

_Meanwhile, Declan stood up and unsheathed Light, twirling it in his hands. A beam shot from it's tip and into the sky, illuminating the night. Then, it disappeared. Declan dropped the sword, holding out his hand and concentrating. As I watched, a whip of light formed in his clenched fist, then it changed into a longsword, then a flail. He let go, and rather than falling, the flail hung in the air. Picking up Light, he swung it as if attacking an imaginary opponent, and as he did, the flail attacked as well._

"_Declan?" It was Elysia, the empousa._

"_Hey, Ellie." Declan turned, the flail disappearing, "Couldn't sleep."_

"_No. Declan, why haven't you shown yourself to the camps?" Elysia asked, "Only Tristan knows what I am, outside the Hunt at least."_

"_I'd rather those Ares idiots not know." Declan sighed, "But know it feels like I'm running from the past, hiding from it. One person knows who I am outside the Hunt as well. The Proctor."_

_Elysia gasped, "Him? The quest never found him, but you did? Is he gone?"_

"_No, and I didn't find him. The Proctor snuck into Cabin Eight the first night of the Greco-Roman Games, and stole Light before I even woke up." Declan looked fondly at the blade in his hand, "Then he interrogated Artemis and I about the whole "Guardian" thing."_

"_Did you tell him about . . . . about C-Chaos?" Elysia stuttered a little at the last word._

"_Can't, remember?" Declan smiled, "Arty is the only reason you girls know, and she wasn't in any hurry to tell that Proctor guy."_

_Elysia started shivering as the night got colder. Declan, noticing this, took off his leather jacket and handed it to her. There was a flash of fire, then a mug of hot chocolate appeared as well, "Here you go, Ellie."_

"_Thanks." They sat together as the night wore on, Elysia sipping at the hot choclate and leaning against Declan._

_When it was about three o' clock, a Cyclops' death-scream ripped through the camp. Elysia, shocked, gave a little jump before Declan put an arm around her, "Good ole' Dracul."_

My alarm went off, waking me up and informing me it was four o' clock. Getting up, I grabbed the first piece of paper I saw, part of last year's budget. Snatching a pencil from my bedside, I started writing the important parts of my dream so I wouldn't forget. _Chaos – Declan -Dracul (drakon, small) – Ellie (Elysia) – Running from past – Summons food in a flash of fire._

I stood, going to my laptop and opening a text document.

_Chaos: Female, original Primordial, supposedly created the universe from scratch. Thought faded, the last the Judges saw of her was over two hundred million years ago. Supposed to be all-powerful, but created the Ancient Laws to govern over herself as well. (Other Primordials?)_

_Declan: Wields Light; skilled. Summons food with fire (Hestia?). Son of Hecate, veteran camper. Not especially popular, but trusted before he went beserk. Sleeps with Artemis (still maiden?) most nights to keep himself from going insane (Light). Close ties with Elysia (empousa), calls her "Ellie." Suspected ties with Aria (former Legionnaire (Three years), daughter of Mercury). Popular with the gods, Aphrodite drools over him._

I started writing out different ways Chaos might've been involved in Declan's becoming the Guardian, but my instincts were telling me Chaos had taken an interest in his life. _Not good. Chaos could throw my plan into . . . chaos. Well, this is unexpected development. _

My thoughts were disturbed as a newspaper was shoved under the door.

* * *

**4/13/2017: Steven Tuft: Philanthropist or Fraud?**

_At yesterday's Senate meeting, the intrepid young Quaestor, Perseus Ouroboros, exposed horrible activities in the Senate. Steven Tuft, big businessman and millionaire has been stealing funds from the Treasury that were meant to go to orphanages and the homeless._

_The Fundamentalists, when they were the ruling party, passed a pair of laws that allowed them to "donate" money anywhere, through the Treasury, then remove the funds, stealing needed money for those who lost parents during the two recent wars. When asked, Pro-Aedile Tuft said this:_

"_These accusations are preposterous slander on the good Tuft name! I demand proof of these fraudulent claims, so I may refute them in the clearest manner possible. As any Roman would, instead of making unfounded accusations against a fellow Senator!"_

_We confronted the Quaestor while he left the Senate Chambers, after he had a face-to-face meeting with Pro-Consul White -head of the NRLC. When asked of Tuft's earlier statements, he replied with this:_

"_There are two laws and dozens of papers as proof. As a Quaestor, I am required to form budget suggestions, which includes any capital to be shared with any establishment that desperately needs it. I chanced across Treasury forms detailing Tuft's and several other notable Fundamentalist's "donations." Imagine my surprise when I connected the dots and saw the amoral acts that they committed. Both of those laws are public record, but obscure. If any of you have a digital copy of the Register, simply look back eleven months ago, on May Eighth, then a month before, on April Twelfth. That Tuft was so arrogant and sure of his bribery that this is public is just sickening. Thankfully, the good members of the NRLC will not rest as such fraud exists in the Senate. It is a crime, all but in name, to harm the young and homeless like this."_

_Article continued on page 3_

* * *

I smiled before folding it and sliding it next to yesterday's addition. _Look's like the Times' on my side for now, given that I've exposed a scandal against such an important person. Shame I have to lay low for a while, although White had a good point. If the Centrists or Freethinkers get with the Fundamentalists to remove me, I won't last long. Still, the media helps._

Glancing up, I saw the Hunt had now moved to North Carolina. _How long was that in Nevada? Thirty-one days, I think._ Making a quick note of that on a different document, one that I used to create a history of where the Hunt was and for how long, to see if it would establish a pattern. _Scientia potentia est, and the more I know the better._

I gathered everything I'd need for another day in the Senate, throwing it all into a messenger bag before throwing on my toga and looping the bag around my shoulder.

That day in the Senate, the Fundamentalists took every opportunity to attack me as the four parties and the Independents debated on the bill that would dissolve the Faunus Working Commission and the extension to the budget for whatever commission or department that made sure companies complied with the rules on a safe working environment.

The other members of the NRLC responded to each point with tact and skill, fending off the party they used to be a part of while still shaping the bill. Of course, the Freethinkers had by far the most votes and thus the most influence on the bill, so they did most of the talking.

It was hammered out by the end of the Senate day, to be voted on tomorrow. This time, no press ambushed me as I left the chamber, but I did catch a few Freethinkers eyeing me intently as I left with my messenger bag once more over my shoulder.

* * *

**4/14/2017: Faunus Working Commission Dissolved!**

_Yesterday's Senate meeting passed a bill that disbanded the useless and embarrassing Faunus Working Commission. It was an idea brought up by Quaestor Ouroboros, and championed by the NRLC. After a pitched battle of negotiation and debate, the Commission was dissolved. It's budget, several hundred thousand denarii, will be routed into the Department of Security and Safety. When asked about this, Consul Macintyre said this:_

"_It is true; Quaestor Ouroboros did expose some very laughable errors in our legislation. But I am certain situations like this are a rarity; After all, Rome has lived for millenia, and we are very good at our jobs. In addition, only two days after we discovered the problem, I solved it with the support of my party. The Freethinker party, my party, has managed to pass much of it's agenda in the past year-and-a-half, and no one can deny the good it has brought to the old, the young, and the disabled. Perhaps now it is time to rest on our plentiful laurels and refine the legislation we have already passed. Nothing is more important to the Freethinkers then the advancement of the peoples, and for that to happen, we must have a large government that runs like clockwork. Oversights like this will be found and eliminated with all due speed."_

_However, head of the NRLC Pro-Consul Jacqueline White had something else to say:_

"_This errant Commission was a clear example of the folly it is to support a behemoth of a Bureaucracy. I have no doubt in my mind that the Freethinker's legislation is riddled with mistakes that needlessly waste taxpayer's money. The NRLC is fortunate that such an intelligent young man as Quaestor Perseus Ouroboros has chosen to be a part of our party. Such men willing and brave enough to speak the truth of the government are rare, and those intelligent enough to present such a reasoned debate are even rarer. On a different point, I believe that passing this bill in three days is far too slow for this government. A smaller, stronger, and more effective government would pass this legislation in one day, at most. A large government is a jammed clock, and object that is expensive to fix and will only last a day before it jams again. Whereas a small government is sword: sharp, efficient, and solid."_

* * *

**4/18/2017: Donation Fraud Laws Repealed!**

_Six days ago, Quaestor Ouroboros accused Pro-Aedile Steven Tuft, a famous businessman, of being the major force of passing laws that allowed him to appear to donate to various beneficial organizations, while actually taking the money back into his pocket. These laws, passed eleven months ago, have been voted to be repealed in the Senate today, with overwhelming Freethinker, Centrist, NRLC, and Independent support. When the votes were tallied, Pro-Aedile Tuft stormed out of the Senate Chamber, saying that he would not stand for a government that does not allow for it's citizen's hard-earned money to be protected by law. In response, Consul Stewart, head of the Centrist party, said this:_

"_Pro-Aedile Tuft's scheming had roots buried deep in the Senate. Those deplorable pieces of legislation were hidden inside of other laws, and the entire Fundamentalist party supported their inclusion. As a moderate, I kept an unbiased view of the legislation at that time, and I could see no fault in it's reasoning . . . . at the time. Now, those pieces of legislation were exposed for what they were: Loopholes created to deprive those in need of what they need. My entire party condemns those pieces of paper that have caused so much harm, and will not stand for other pieces of legislation that are so blatantly conservative that they hurt New Rome and all it stands for. Pro-Aedile Tuft was not a man who was looking out for Rome, but a man focused on his own money."_

_After she said those words, the head of the Centrist party asked for a meeting with Pro-Consul White, the head of the NRLC, to discuss perhaps presenting a united front on such despicable matters. Will this signal a new era of Centrist and NRLC dominance, and Fundamentalist divide?_

* * *

**4/20/2017: Senators Leave the Fundamentalists!**

_Only two days after Pro-Aedile Tuft ran out of the Senate in disgrace, six Senators of the Fundamentalist party changed idealisms, instead flocking to the NRLC banner. Pro-Quaestor William Schmidt said this:_

"_I don't want to be part of a party that knowingly -and regularly- performs such distasteful actions. I was never a kingpin in the Fundamentalist party, but I always trusted the party leaders -Tuft being one of them- not to lead me wrong. Their recent actions show me I cannot trust them to act in the interests of New Rome, and so I cannot follow their leadership. However, I knew Pro-Consul White back when the Fundamentalist party was in power, before Tuft became a leader and the NRLC split off, and I know her to be wise and a good leader. I cannot condone the actions of my former party, and I know that no party under Pro-Consul White would commit such a despicable action. I regret whatever part I had to play in the creation of those two laws, but perhaps as part of the NRLC, I can move past it to a new family."_

_When we approached Pro-Consul Jacqueline about the recent additions to her party, she replied with this:_

"_The NRLC will always welcome new members. These former Fundamentalists have seen the errors of their party's ways, and that alone redeems them in my eyes. So long as they act in the party's -and New Rome's- best interest, they need not fear me or anyone member of my party. But be warned, any Fundamentalists seeking to punish your former colleagues: The NRLC and I will not stand for any vengeance you try to exact. We will fight you with tooth and nail should you attack us."_

_Strong words from the leader of the smallest party in the Senate. We will soon see whether such bold words were justified, and what the fury of the Fundamentalists will bring._

* * *

**4/20/2017: Percy's POV**

I put the newspaper down, looking at Jonas, "Well, I didn't expect this."

Jonas shrugged, "Neither did I. That thing with Tuft sparked a media circus, and a wave of public opinion."

"What's White planning to use it for?" I asked. Since I had only been a part of the NRLC for a little more than a week, no one had taken me into their council. Anything White thought I should know what passed through Jonas, which forced me to use a little more. . . . shady measures to get information.

"Tribune elections, I think." Jonas shrugged, as if he didn't know. _Yeah, White told you that, didn't she? _"The plebs are all up-in-arms about the whole Tuft thing."

"They would be. What d'you think our chances are?"

"We'll get one, easy. Two'll probably be Freethinker, then one apiece Centrist and Fundamentalist." Jonas looked at me shrewdly, "Why do you identify as patrician? It'll lose you some popularity."

I shrugged, "It's who I am, who the last Ouroboros here was. Besides, about three-fourths of this party's patrician. Now I'm just waiting for the Fundies to make their next move. Tribune elections are what, a week away?"

"Nine days."

* * *

**4/21/2017: Senator Accused of Theft!**

_In today's Senate meeting, several Fundamentalists accused the charming Quaestor Ouroboros of siphoning funds from the Treasury! Has the "politician for the people" been stealing from them all along?_

_When asked about these claims, the Quaestor replied with this:_

"_These claims are a ridiculous attack on my character; Their obvious purpose is to put the NRLC in bad light just before the Tribune elections to ensure no Tribunes are elected from my party. I will be going into court with the support of my party, so I may prove to all Romans that those accusations are slanderous. The Fundamentalists are clearly twisting the Bureaucracy in a purely political attack as revenge for the truths I spoke of a week ago. Neither I nor the NRLC will stand by and let the Fundamentalists do such a thing. I look forward to seeing them in court."_

_Pro-Aedile Steven Tuft, the driving force behind the accusations, said this:_

"_I knew the Ouroboros fellow was bad business, and he attacked me by bending laws _I_ had helped write! I have never seen such a hypocrite, accusing me of withdrawing funds meant for orphanages, while all along routing hundreds of thousands of dollars from it's rightful place in the Treasury to his own pockets! Mark my words, good Roman citizens, this is a man not out for the people, but for his wallet and his ill-gotten fame!"_

_After certain evidence was presented to the Praetors, the case was accepted. The starting day of the trial is tentatively scheduled as the twenty-second, and we at the Times New Roman look forward to seeing the "politician for the people" get shown his true colors._

* * *

**4/21/2017: Percy's POV**

"Shit." I slammed the paper on the table. _Damn_ _media vultures._

A mile away, the head of the NRLC was doing the same thing and debating whether to cut her losses and withdraw. Instead, a quick motion sent Jonas away with a message.

I stood as if nothing was wrong, heading for the Treasury building. I didn't frequent the place, but I had been there quite a few times over the past week and a half -comes with the job.

"Back to steal more money, Quaestor?" The fifty-something clerk, who was normally very polite and courteous, held a sting of hurt in her voice.

I sighed, "Can't prove the bastards wrong without some evidence, Molly. For what it's worth, I swear on the Styx I didn't steal anything from the Treasury. In any method of stealing."

Molly just snorted. Since oaths on the Styx weren't accepted as proof for more than a millenium, it just didn't count for that much. _Even if it's unbreakable to everyone non-werewolf._

I navigated the building with ease, until I got to a a room with rows upon rows upon rows of filing cabinets, all containing copies of budgets, budget suggestions, proposed budgets, budget breakdowns, and budget explanations. After poking around for a few minutes, I found the 2017 budget, then copied a little number at the top. That number, if entered into the right website, would take me to the budget. I did the same for everything related to that budget, which amounted to a dozen more numbers before leaving the room and heading next door.

In here was expenses of one of the various commissions, departments, and agencies, updated daily. Sighing, I started copying down all the expense report's numbers for the past two weeks, then did the same for the rest of the Bureaucracy. As I was currently accused of a crime by the government, I couldn't actually go to the Senate. _All the more time to build up evidence._

Going back to my apartment, I opened my laptop and started going on the websites of the Roman Bureaucracy. _I can just imagine a random mortal finding this and thinking there's some secret organization controlling the US. Especially with all the triangles. . . _

Taking out a lined notebook, I started marking down points and doing mental math, comparing budget reports to the allotted budget, as passed by the Senate three months ago. Then I started copying down names and sub-departments mentioned in the reports, all with a dastardly plan in my mind: Start calling every single worker in the government up to the witness bench to see if they made each individual expense -if that's what it took to clear my name.

I debated calling Miranda for her help before ultimately deciding against it. _Whatever short-term gains blowing her cover would bring, long-term could see a Consul thrown out._

I filled up one sheet, front and back, then moved on to the next, and the next, and the next.

This went on for hours, my mind locking into a pattern. Every once and a while, I would switch to another department, agency, or commission just to break the monotony and give myself more rounded points. An alarm alerted me that the Senate day had just ended, meaning I needed to get to Jonas to pass a message to Pro-Consul White.

Not bothering with the toga, I ran out of the apartment with a piece of paper detailing what I was planning, all typed. When I got there, White was long gone, but Jonas was there.

"Hey, Jonas. I need you to pass this on to Pro-Consul White." I said, giving him the paper.

Jonas nodded, looking it over, "Mrs. White told me that the moment the trial starts looking hairy, you're on your own."

"So little faith." I grinned, "Think that'd work?"

"Maybe, if you can keep the trial going long enough." Jonas shrugged, "The other Tribunes could overrule this, but if they're as bored as you're trying to get them . . . it has a chance. And it's clever."

"It is a criminal trial or a civil trial?" I asked, needing the info.

"Criminal."

I groaned. _Civil would be a lot easier to win, but criminal trial's good if they mess up._ "I don't suppose you could issue enough subpoenas for everyone in the Bureaucracy?"

Jonas chuckled, "Nah. Besides, the more time it takes to fetch the guys and gals, the more time the whole thing'll take."

"Good point." I acknowledged, "What happened today?"

"The usual, you know how it is. The Faun Registration Act got shot down again, by the way."

I sighed, "The _actual _politics, please."

Politics in the Senate were separated into two parts: On the surface, it was endless debates on bills, acts, reforms, and whatnot. In those debates, though, was where the daggers came out. Senators insulting other Senators, threatening to expose scandals, and in general trying to make their party look good in the eyes of the ever-present _Times New Roman_ reporters.

"Ah." Jonas nodded, "The Fundies were attacking you, the same claims over and over. The Frees and Cents are staying neutral, but the Fundies still outnumber us by quite a bit. Oh, and we lost one of the recent turnovers."

"Not too bad, all things considered."

"You're still just a newbie quaestor, Percy. You aren't important in the grand scheme of things, not yet, so don't think you're more important than you are." Jonas replied, "Word to wise, there."

"Yeah, you're right." I nodded thoughtfully before checking my watch and finding I had wasted far too much time here, "Gotta run."

Jonas nodded back, "I'll give her the paper."

I was ambushed by the press as soon as I left the Senate Chamber, but managed to brush them off, saying I had to work for the trial. I also said they'd want to be there.

After getting back into my apartment, I sat down in front of my computer again, my mind focused and ready. By the time I absolutely _had_ to sleep, I had over three dozens sheets of paper and hundreds of names.

* * *

**4/22/2017: Percy's POV**

Groaning as I rolled out of bed, I hurriedly made some crappy coffee to wake myself up before gathering my papers and shoving them in the messenger bag, reviewing my points, my position, my lists, and everything else.

A letter had been delivered in person yesterday the time of the trial today, and it was in an hour, in the _Curia_. _Everything ready? Good, now I wait._

Thirty minutes later, two uniformed members of the New Roman Police Force -the NRPF- knocked on my door.

I walked over with the messenger bag over my shoulder, opening the door, "Hello, gentleman. I assume you are here to take me to my trial?"

"Put your hands in front of yourself." One of them ordered, a thirty-something skinhead.

I did as he asked, and my hands were cuffed with Imperial Gold chains.

"Now, give me the bag." It was the other police officer, and twenty-something women who was obviously junior.

"I'm sorry, but these cuffs make that somewhat impossible." I slid the bag down my shoulder, stopping when the strap met my cuffs, "And that bag contains evidence for the trial, which means you can't confiscate it for fear of falsifying the evidence in any way. In fact, you couldn't have legally handcuffed me, as you cannot cuff a Senator without suspected crimes of treason or other high crimes and misdemeanors."

Scowling, the senior policeman led me to the _Curia_, or courthouse. Stepping inside, I walked over to the area for the accused. Luckily, the presiding Praetor over the trial was a Centrist.

With my hands still cuffed, I started taking out my papers and spreading them over the table, lists of names and expenses. Once that was all done, I sat back and waited. Maybe fifteen minutes after that, people started coming in to sit down, Pro-Consul White and Jonas among them. A few minutes after that, the Praetor struck the gavel.

"This court has been assembled to put Quaestor Perseus Ouroboros on trial for theft and embezzlement of government funds." the Praetor announced, "Will you be represented by an attorney, Quaestor Ouroboros?"

"No, your Honor, I am defending myself." I nodded to him, "And I have an objection, your Honor."

"What?"

"Unless I am accused of high crimes, such as high thievery, high sedition, or high treason, these cuffs cannot be put on me." I said, raising the Imperial Gold cuffs to his eyes.

The Praetor nodded to the senior policeman, "Uncuff him, Jon."

Still scowling, the senior policeman -Jon- grabbed the cuff for a few seconds, then they unlatched.

"Your Honor, I would like to submit the following papers as evidence." It was a lawyer, sitting at the plantiff's table, "They are all public record and detail an inconsistency between the annual budget and weekly budget reports, with Ouroboros the probable cause of the inconsistency."

"Do you have any evidence you wish to submit, Quaestor Ouroboros?"

"Yes, your Honor. I would like to submit the 2017 annual budget, along with the daily budget reports from every organization within the government from 4/1/2017 to 4/22/2017." I said, "Understandably, you Honor, I could not bring them all here, your Honor, as daily budget reports are confidential to those not with Treasury-related jobs such as Quaestors or Censors. In fact, the weekly expense reports are not public record, despite what the plantiff says. Which leads me to be suspicious of how Pro-Aedile Tuft managed to steal classified information from the Treasury building and submit it as evidence. I suspect either he stole password that gives him access to Treasury papers online, or broke into the Treasury building itself, your Honor. I therefore state that the evidence submitted by Pro-Aedile Tuft's lawyer, excepting the budget, cannot be treated as evidence, and if it is shown to be legitimate, I will accuse Pro-Aedile Tuft of High Thievery and Theft of Confidential Government Files."

The Praetor considered this for a minute, then nodded, "Remove the confidential evidence from the _Curiae_, Jon, and test if it legitimate. Plantiff, would you like to call witnesses to the bench?"

Tuft's lawyer looked shocked as his well-planned and reputation-building case was ripped to shreds in front of him. All the same, he stood, "Yes, your Honor. I would call Molly Green up to the bench. On questions of Quaestor Ouroboros' visits to the Treasury Building, and her experiences with the criminal."

"Objection, your Honor." I stood, "As this court is in the process of deciding whether Quaestor Ouroboros _is_ a criminal, he cannot be called one before the court's decision."

"Granted. Plaintiff, please refrain from calling the Defendant a criminal, crook, thief, or similar word."

The clerk from earlier walked up and sat on the bench, "I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"Mrs. Green, you work as a receptionist at the Treasury building?" The Praetor asked, looking intently at the kind-hearted lady.

"Yes, Praetor Taylor."

"Do you see everyone who enters and leaves the building?"

"Yes, sir."

"How many times has Quaestor Ouroboros visited the Treasury building?"

"In the last eleven days, he has entered and left the building twelve times, although the last three were today and yesterday."

"What of the other current Quaestors?"

"They have all visited the Treasury building once, as to register themselves in our systems. And one of the new Freethinkers did as well, to take that document. Only that one, though." Molly pointed to a thin folder on the table.

Tuft's lawyer seized on the opportunity, "As it has been proven by eyewitness account that this file was withdrawn from a member of the Treasury, you Honor, I would like to re-submit it as evidence."

"Granted." The Praetor replied, and that file was returned to the table, before he turned back to the clerk, "How would describe Quaestor Ouroboros' visits?"

"Energetic in a way, sir. Not hurried, but . . . .driven. Like he had plenty of things to do, and nothing could take too much time out of anything else, sir. He also carried that messenger bag everywhere he went, but it could never be searched 'cause it might hold confidential information."

"Has he ever let you search the bag voluntarily? As to prove it did not carry confidential information or incriminating evidence?"

"Yes, sir. Four days ago, I began to get suspicious of what he might be carrying, and rather rudely asked him if I could search it. To my surprise, he smiled and handed it to me. Such a handsome smile, too. . ."

"Mrs. Green, please focus on the topic's actions, not his appearance."

"Oh, sorry sir. His bag contained a copy of the Register, a laptop, one spiral-bound notebook, a bag of mechanical pencils and pens, an IPhone Eight, a deck of playing cards, and a book. The Prince, I think it was called. Oh, and a journal." Molly said, and I was suddenly glad I was in a good mood that day.

"What about in the journal, Mrs. Green?"

"I leafed through it, your Honor, all that I found were references to pages in The Prince and his interpretation of various paragraphs. Odd, but not particularly suspicious. I understand that The Prince was popular around Senators some twenty years ago, sir."

"Would either of you like to cross-examine the witness?" The Praetor asked.

"I would, your Honor." I said.

"Granted."

I stood, walking over to the witness bench, "Mrs. Green, would you describe any of the Quaestor's actions as suspicious?"

"No, Quaestor Ouroboros. You took your job very seriously, from what I could see. I've seen a lot of money-siphoners in my years, and I can always pick one out in a crowd. Slightly hunched shoulders, won't meet your eyes, nervous like they have something to hide."

"Objection, your Honor." Tuft's lawyer stood up. "On the grounds that unsupported opinion cannot be excepted as proof from an eye-witness."

"Granted. Quaestor Ouroboros, return to your seat."

I bowed respectfully to the Praetor before returning returning to my seat.

"Defendant, would you like to call witnesses to the bench?" Praetor Taylor asked.

"Yes, your Honor. I call Jonathan Wright, on questions involving his daily budget reports." I said. To my surprise, he was among the crowd and stepped up. Jonathan Wright was a man of forty years, with orange hair that was just starting to gray.

"I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

The Praetor looked the minor government employee over, "You are Jonathan Wright, part of the Legionary Weaponry Commission?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is this the budget report you submitted twenty-one days ago?" The Praetor asked, handing him a budget report from before I entered office.

"Yes, sir. It is the very same."

"Was it altered in any significant way since you submitted it? Is anything different?" Praetor Taylor asked.

Jonathan took the report, "The commissioning of ten new _gladiis_ to replace the ones that broke or need replacement. Refurbishing armor. . . . . .dismantling the last of those onagers . . . . . recycling more of the ammunition . . . . . new Scorpion bolts. . . . . some new water cannons . . . . . more _scruta_ and _pilum_ . . . . . Yes, Praetor, this document is not fraudulent."

"And this one?" It was the next report, the day after the one Jonathan had in his hands.

Jonathan spoke affirmative at every document after painstakingly looking them over for inconsistencies, proving that they were not fake. All in all, just one employee took over an hour. _For this employee, out ogf hundreds._

"You are dismissed, Mr. Wright." The Praetor turned to me, "Would you like to call any more witnesses?"

"Yes, your Honor." I consulted my list, "Kristen Springfield, also part of the Legionary Weaponry Commission, on question of her daily budget reports."

"Send a runner."

Kristen Springfield, an attractive young women in her late twenties, took a seat as soon as the runner came back, leading her, "I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"You are Kristen Springfield, part of the Legionary Weaponry Commission?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is this document correct?" The Praetor questioned.

Kristen looked it over intently, with none of the muttering that Jonathan had. Instead, she was coolly competent, probably a much better employee than Jonathan, despite their difference in age. Several minutes later, Kristen looked up, relieved, "This document in correct in it's entirety, sir."

"Good." Praetor Taylor replied, before withdrawing another packet from my list of documents, which had been taken from the Treasury a good while ago. "And this document, Ms. Springfield? Is it also correct?"

Kristen took this document as well, comparing it with the previous as well as looking it over intently. After a while, she looked up and shook her head, "This second document is correct except for one item and it's order, your Honor."

"Which is the item, and what do you mean by "order", Ms. Springfield?"

"I arrange my expenses in several ways, your Honor. Categories and sub-categories. For instance, swords are always at the top of the report as a category, then _gladiis_ as a sub-category, and specific lengths and widths after that, if they need specifications. Once I have filed the _gladiis_, the next sub-category would be a _spatha_ or other sword. Following that are bows, spears, artillery, construction materials for barricades, forts, and others." Kristen pointed to the document, "Nothing is in it's proper place, as if a buffoon was copying the report without any knowledge of how I worked. As you can see, the first item is a quantity of diorite gniess, for construction of a fort for War Games later that week. A few items later is the first _gladius, _a severe irregularity in my work, which I am certain never happened, your Honor."

"Objection, your Honor." Tuft's lawyer stood, "On the grounds that many things can change the order of a list."

Kristen looked ready to attack him for that, but Praetor Taylor spoke again, "Denied. And what of the item, Ms. Springfield?"

"It was a purchase of acid, horse excrement, and flammable liquids for a Death-Ball match." Kristen pointed at a specific row, "For one, the bill is far too high. I have been working this job for the past four years, and I have never seen the price be even _close _to that. Secondly, I do not remember ever adding that item. Third, the Death-Ball Match was to be held to days later. My report on 4/13/17 shows the requisition of the very same materials for a game the day after -one which was confirmed to take place."

_So someone was siphoning money, just not me._

Kristen slowly and carefully looked over the remaining reports that she filed, comparing them to the detailed and annotated annual budget as well, for anything that didn't add up. A full hour and a half later, she looked up again, "These documents have not been falsified, other than the 4/2/17 report, your Honor."

"Thank you, Ms. Springfield. You are dismissed." Praetor Taylor turned to me, "So you wish to build upon the witness' statements, Quaestor Ouroboros? If you wish to, the plaintiff may refute your claims."

"I would like to, your Honor." I stood, addressing the jury, "I was not a Quaestor on the second of April. In fact, I was not even in New Rome. This clearly shows that there was someone siphoning money, but not one currently a Quaestor unless he or she was re-elected."

Tuft's lawyer stood, "I wish to say that Ms. Springfield's account cannot be taken as the truth. Perhaps she was hungover as she filed the report, and not exhibiting usual sense?"

I shook my head in response, "All Treasury employees are breathalyzed in the morning and submitted to a test to ascertain that they are not under the influence of any sources that would impair them from their job; That would include an excessive hangover."

Defeated, the lawyer sat again.

"Defendant, do you wish to summon another witness?" Praetor Taylor asked.

I nodded, "Jeffery Kalupa, part of the Legionary Weaponry Commission."

The Praetor sighed, "Send a runner. And how many more, Defendant?"

"As many as it takes to prove that the Plaintiff's claims against me are false, your Honor." I replied, "I currently have a list of names, and quite a long one at that. If every bureaucrat must be questioned, then it will happen. I take this as a purely political attack on my person and the party I affiliate with. And so, I will not make it an easy victory, your Honor."

"Objection, your Honor." Tuft's lawyer stood, "This is criminal trial, not involving political maneuvering in any-"

"Denied." Praetor Taylor cut him off, obviously annoyed that Tuft's side was trying to deny what was happening in the open.

Meanwhile, the runner came back with Jeffery in tow, who took the witness bench, "I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

This time, Praetor Taylor simply tossed the stack of documents at him, "Mr. Kalupa, please read these and tell us of any irregularities between what you know to have done and what is shown here."

This continued until the court closed for the day, but we didn't even get through an eight of the witnesses I planned to call up.

But, unknown to the Quaestor, there was another pair of eyes assessing the situation. Macintyre sat in the back, thinking of how wrong this went from a rigged trial designed to tear down the rising star and his party.

* * *

**4/23/2017: Illegal Evidence at Quaestor's Trial!**

_At yesterday's trial of Quaestor Perseus Ouroboros, the Senator accused of theft startled the audience by showing that all but one of the pieces of evidence to be used against him had to have been acquired illegally. Whereas the Quaestor's own evidence is completely legal, as he is a current Treasury worker and thus has access to those files. When asked about the use of the evidence, the accused Quaestor said this:_

"_As I have said before, this is a clear attack on the NRLC. This use of fake evidence and constant objections only shows that. Pro-Aedile Tuft obviously took offense that I stopped his amoral practices, but I never expected a Roman citizen -and a Senator, no less- to stoop to this level of deception and crime. What is next on the Fundamentalist agenda? A knife in the back or a poisoned cup?"_

_Pro-Aedile Tuft, the Plaintiff, had this to say:_

"_Quaestor Ouroboros' accusations of this evidence being illegally gotten is preposterous; He simply wants to win, and has bribed Praetor Taylor into accepting whatever he says. That man is a curse on New Rome, and this trial must be an exorcism to rid this city of his taint. How can my evidence be illegal, when he is legal? It simply makes no rational and unbiased sense, so the answer must lie in bias and bribes, two of the most terrible blights upon civilized people. Quaestor Ouroboros is quite obviously using this trial to call the Fundamentalists evil and hide his own dark soul behind a thin veneer of good will. Mark my words, Romans: This man is evil and must be purged."_

_Brave words from a man who is not even facing Quaestor Ouroboros in court, instead hiding behind a lawyer of the Berkeley&amp;Burns Firm. On the flip side, Quaestor Ouroboros defended himself as he promised, facing his accusers without quailing. In addition, his witnesses -in particular, Kristen Springfield- showed someone has been siphoning money since before Quaestor Ouroboros was elected._

* * *

**4/23/2017: Percy's POV**

"This is good." I commented to Jonas, who was next to me, "I thought the media vultures would still be casting me as the villain."

"Yeah, me too. It looks like they've cast their lot on our side, though." Jonas replied, "See? They're tearing down Tuft and his lawyer."

"Our side?" I asked, "I still have Mrs. White's blessing?"

"Not blessing." Jonas shifted uncomfortably, "Tacit support, more like."

Jonas was sitting in front of a holding cell, where I was staying while I was on trial. I knew I couldn't protest this treatment last night as I was brought under the _Curia_, so I instead lauded the sense in not allowing a criminal out while he's on trial, and earning a little more positivist from the public. Even Jon, the senior cop stopped scowling.

"At least she's not kicking me out." I checked my watch, "And . . . . . now."

Two cops approached, the same two that escorted me from my apartment yesterday.

"Please come with us, Quaestor Ouroboros." Jon commanded.

"Of course, Deputy First Class." I stepped out of the cell, pleased that they weren't trying to cuff me again.

"Follow me, sir." Jon ordered, turning away. I followed him, with the junior policewoman taking up the rear. We walked up the stairs and into the courtroom again, Jonas claiming a seat next to Mrs. White, who was sitting in the audience as well.

The pound of the gavel quieted the crowd, "I, Praetor Macreides Taylor, call this court into session. Mr. Kalupa, continue your work."

_Wait, why didn't he do it at night? Oh, idiot. Of course they wouldn't let evidence out of the courtroom, so Jeffery couldn't see any of it._

A half hour later, Jeffery looked up at the Praetor, "I clearly remember most of it, and I'm a little fuzzy on some of it, but there's one thing I know I didn't file. This order for serpentine and peridotite as building material is defiantly false. First, serpentine is the California State Rock, and is too expensive to waste like that. Second, it's a terrible material to use for constructing a fort. Like making a table entirely out of stained glass, legs and all. Sure, it might last a little bit, but it's not the right material, at all. If I remember right, there weren't War Games that week. Oh, and that was 4/5/17, by the way."

"You are dismissed, Mr. Kalupa." Praetor Taylor said, making a shooing motion with his hand. Then, there was a disturbance in the crowd as a figure pushed it's way to the front. _Miranda? What the hell are you doing?_

"Jon, take this young woman out, we don't have the time." Taylor ordered, and Jon started walking forward. I could tell she was attracting more stares from more than just her entrance, and she looked as beautiful and composed as she always did.

"I have new evidence concerning the trial of Quaestor Ouroboros." Miranda announced, her voice frosty.

"Objection, your Honor." Tuft's lawyer stood, "Evidence can only be submitted by the court, the plaintiff, and the defendant."

"I appoint her as my attorney, your Honor." I spoke quickly. _Whatever you're doing here, it'd better be good_.

"Objection, your Honor. Attorneys cannot be added in the middle of a case."

"Except if the defendant was never informed as to his right to an attorney." I shot back, "Was I ever informed of my rights, Jon?"

Jon looked down, embarrassed, "No."

"Then, under these special circumstances set by _New Rome v. Rowle_, I hereby appoint this-," My eyes made a show of looking at the little metal plate that all Treasury bureaucrats had to wear, which had their name, "-Miranda Lytvyn as my attorney."

"Granted." Praetor Taylor replied, looking interestedly at Miranda.

"I would like to submit the following as evidence." Miranda stated, her voice reaching across the room, "The actual report of expenses on 4/5/17 and 4/13/17 for Jeffery Kalupa and Kristen Springfield."

She placed a slim file on the evidence table, "I have been escorted, since the minute I explained my intentions to the clerk to my arrival here, by another Treasury employee -Molly Green- to ensure that these documents are legitimate and have not been tampered with ever since I removed them from Treasury filing cabinets. Those on the table were printed, correct?"

Taylor nodded, "Correct."

"Objection, your Honor." It was Tuft's lawyer, right on time, "These documents must have been acquired illegally. If the court accepts them as evidence, they must also-"

"Miranda Lytvyn is a member of the Treasury, and so long as she was escorted by another Treasury employee -Molly Green- since she removed the file -which she has been- this evidence is legally gotten and thus valid in this court." Praetor Taylor cut him off again, "What were you saying again, Ms. Lytvyn?"

"These are the originals, not prints." Miranda said, "Along with other relevant information. Such as who transferred them to a digital copy: Fundamentalist Pro-Quaestor Donald Jenkins."

The room exploded into shouts, with the _Times New Roman _reporter eagerly scribbling notes down.

"ORDER! ORDER!" Praetor Taylor shouted, banging the gavel down. Each strike sounding like a thunderclap and gradually quieting the crowd. "Continue, Ms. Lytvyn."

"If the court would allow me to submit a list of reports and documentation Pro-Quaestor Jenkins took manually as evidence, there could quite possible be other inconsistencies; Inconsistencies that show a curious disappearance of taxpayer money from involvement with a Fundamentalist Senator. I therefore state that it is not Quaestor Ouroboros that is guilty, but Pro-Quaestor Donald Jenkins of the Fundamentalists."

The court again descended into chaos. Over fifteen minutes later -and after much banging of the gavel- Praetor Taylor again returned the court to a mostly quiet state.

"I believe the jury wishes to convene?" Praetor Taylor suggested. The jury, four women and three men, went into a small side room to discuss.

Only fifteen minutes later, they emerged again, "Are you ready to cast your vote?"

"Not guilty."

"Not guilty."

"Not guilty."

"Not guilty."

"Guilty."

"Not guilty."

"Not guilty."

"The opinions have been gather; In a six to one decision, Quaestor Perseus Ouroboros is not guilty of Thievery and Embezzlement of Government Funds." Praetor Taylor announced, "This session is closed."

* * *

**4/24/2017: Quaestor Ouroboros Innocent!**

_In a six to one decision, the accused Quaestor is innocent of the charges pressed by Fundamentalist William Tuft. They were looking at a long trial of calling an endless number of witnesses up to the bench to look at an equally endless list of reports when Miranda Lytvyn, a Treasury employee, broke through the crowd. In a startling and seemingly blind move, Quaestor Ouroboros hired her as his attorney for this case. Using her new position, Ms. Lytvyn submitted pieces of evidence that clearly show Quaestor Ouroboros as innocent of all crimes, and places certain suspicion on Pro-Quaestor Donald Jenkins, a Fundamentalist._

_When asked, Quaestor Ouroboros said this:_

"_I am very thankful that Ms. Lytvyn came when she did. I don't think I could have handled another day of obviously false accusations against my person and party. I am especially glad that Ms. Lytvyn managed to point a finger at the real culprits, in the Fundamentalist part, who tried to blame the crimes of their own party members at me. Her speedy and flawless argument quickly brought the jury to convene, and created a even quicker decision. I am glad that they ruled with the truth -that I am innocent- instead of going against it for the Fundamentalists that seek to discredit me and my party. In a more material showing of my thanks, I am inviting Ms. Lytvyn to dinner at Domus Pretiosarum Epularum in the next few days."_

_Ms. Lytvyn accepted with invitation with a sly smile, and the two of them left the courthouse together. Has the rising star found a love interest?_

* * *

**A/N: Anyone who can read Latin (i.e. me) is probably laughing right now. As the Google Translate sucks with Latin, I'll put the translation here: The House of Expensive Foods.**

**Please review, it makes my day.**


	15. Chapter 13- For the Very First Time

**A/N: Just so you know, this story _will_ be continuing. And sorry for the slow update, things have been a bit hectic.**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

Chapter 13- For the Very First Time

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"So, care to explain why everyone now thinks we're going to be an item?" I asked while Miranda and I were heading back to our apartments.

"One, because we are, and two, because the spending handled by Praetors, Consuls, and Censors are handled through the Legion." Miranda replied, her striking eyes meeting my own, "I would never be able to find a scandal that way. At least I was useful here, and there was another advantage to my actions."

I narrowed my eyes, thinking through everything. _Miranda associates with Senator of NRLC. . . . who could benefit? Maybe she'll get promoted if she's close to me, but I doubt it. The press? Nah. _I sighed, giving up, "What?"

"Auralius Scott. The Freethinker."

My mind snapped into focus, "Oh."

"Yes, he'll want me to spy on you." Miranda smirked, "So, when's the dinner?"

"Tomorrow night." I smiled, "I'm reserving a room there so the _Times_ won't be all over us, if they show up at all. Although it _is_ a five-star restaurant, so I doubt they'd be let in."

"Then you should start arrangements." We arrived at the two doors, then Miranda leaned over a kissed me, full in the lips, "Good night, Perseus."

An hour later, I could still feel the warmth of her lips on mine.

* * *

**4/24/2017: Percy's POV**

"Congratulations." Mrs. White said as we walked into the Senate chamber, "A team of my lawyers are currently accusing Pro-Quaestor Jenkins of various charges, but the core of the Fundamentalists is still united. We may have won this trial, but they didn't lose."

"I am grateful that you are sharing this wisdom with me, ma'am. But why, may I ask?"

"I am willing to move you up a few ranks in the NRLC, should you do something for me." White replied. _You__ scratch my back, and I'l__l scratch yours._

"What is the "something," ma'am?"

"You have been shielded from Tuft's attacks by your lack of attachment to any particular business." stated Mrs. White, "But many of the companies supporting the NRLC do not have that protection. Tuft's -and the Fundamentalist's- friends in business are putting pressure on them, demanding for debts to be repaid."

"You want me to pay them?" I asked, and took the silence as affirmative, "Yes, ma'am, and may I suggest something?"

"You may."

"I set up a bank account between you and I. Containing a large amount of money that could be withdrawn from when needed, should the Fundamentalists managed to freeze the bank accounts of an NRLC member." I replied, "As a safety net, and to remove some of the pressure Tuft can put on the NRLC."

"Your terms on such an account?" Mrs. White asked, interested. _I have the money, I make the rules._

"First is that there's a cap to how much can be withdrawn by anyone who isn't you or me. Say, fifty-thousand denarii. Second, it's in the New Roman Commerce Bank." I held up my hands forestalling any protest, "I know, I know, the Fundy's have some influence there. But, the NRCB is pretty deep in debt to the Olympus Bank. I'll level it and transfer my account to the NRCB as well. You know they'd bend over backwards to get their hands on the Ouroboros account. I think they'd even tell me which companies I could pressure the most."

Mrs. White narrowed her eyes, as if refining her opinion of me, "Very well. I accept your terms, on two conditions: One is that you tell me the balance of your bank account and other assets. The other is that you disassociate yourself with the Ms. Lytvyn. Her patron is Auralius Scott, an influential Freethinker."

It took all my willpower not to burst out laughing, but I couldn't stop the smile, "Don't worry about Miranda, ma'am. I've known her for a long time, and her joining the Treasury was part of a plan between the two of us to expose any Freethinker scandals with money. She will be feeding Scott and the Freethinkers false information, while doing her best to spy on them for us."

"And how certain are you of this?"

"Without a doubt." My smile grew even wider, "She has been an ally of mine for a long time. In the Greco-Roman Games, Miranda and I were the finalists at the knife-fighting competition and Scott was in the audience. It was all part of a plan to make her even better as a potential successor to the Freethinker, and he ate it right up."

Mrs. White sighed, like she made a decision she didn't want to, "Very well; Get to work, the Senate meeting starts as soon as the tribunes are elected."

"Of course, ma'am." I headed out of the Senate chamber while Mrs. White took the lead in the NRLC. My phone vibrated, telling me I had a message. It was from Jonas, and a list of all the companies the Fundamentalists were trying to eliminate. _Okay, then._

I jogged over to the HQ of Ceres' Cupboards, opening the door. "I have an appointment with the head of financing. Ouroboros."

"Of course." the teller said, tapping a few things on a computer, "Go to room fifty-three, on the second floor. He is currently in a meeting with the NRCB, but will be with you shortly."

"Thank you." I climbed up the stairs and located room fifty-three pretty quickly, opening the door and stepping inside.

"What is the meaning of this?" A middle-aged man demanded. He was in his late fifties, wearing an exquisite suit and had a name-tag identifying him as part of NRCB. A Freethinker puppet. He was glaring at Matthew Turner, the head of financing, who was currently sweating behind his own desk. _He's in trouble._

"I am sorry, sir. I do not know."

"Please, do not allow me to intervene. I am here at the request of the Senate, to monitor the economic state of New Rome. As Ceres' Cupboard is a powerful company that could greatly affect the market for food, and as New Rome is currently in a recession, I will be listening to this conversation." I pulled a chair from the side of the room and sat down in it.

"This is highly irregular, Mr. Turner." The man, who I saw was Benjamin Walker, complained, "But, continuing, you owe the NRCB over ten million denarii. Should the payment not be forthcoming, the bank will seize your company's accounts and property, forcing you to close."

At this point, I interrupted, "I will settle the debt in its entirety. As per your loan contract with Ceres' Cupboard, a third may party may act as an intermediary between any demanded payments. By the consent of Pro-Consul White, a major shareholder, I have been appointed to be that third party. Do you disagree with this decision, Mr. Turner?"

The head of financing shook his head quickly, "No. Your appointment is approved and validated. I am sorry to inform you, Mr. Walker that this meeting is over. The debt will be settled."

Mr. Walker scowled, but stood, "Remember the payment is due today, at twelve o' clock."

He left the office with a briefcase in his hands.

"Quaestor Ouroboros. I saw the articles." Matthew said, turning to give me his full attention, "Let's cut the crap. What'll this cost me, and what's your rate?"

I held up my hands, "Nothing. I'm not even asking for you to repay me the money. I have plenty more, if you've heard the stories of my families account. Pro-Consul White and I had a deal, and this is my side."

His eyes widened, and he smiled so widely it nearly reached his ears, "Thank you so much, Quaestor. You have my word that Ceres' Cupboard will continue to support the NRLC."

I smiled back, "You're welcome. Now, I need to catch up with Ben Walker and ruin his day at the next company, too."

"Of course. Send him my regards!" Matthew called as I went out the door, walking quickly. Walker, luckily, had been held up at the reception desk, which let me catch up to him. All I had to do is flash my rank -Quaestor- to the receptionist and she let me out.

I walked quickly and quietly, staying behind Mr. Walker as he headed towards his next target. We soon came upon Baker's Constructing, who handled a good deal of building in New Rome. This lobby was a lot smaller and less impressive, but then, Baker's Constructing didn't own any shops, and this was their only building. Mr. Walker got tied up arguing with the receptionist again while I slipped past, having seen where the head of financing's office was -a woman by the name of Rachel Demolles.

"You aren't Mr. Walker." She commented, "What are you doing here?"

"Check your email." I replied, "Mrs. White sent me."

Rachel nodded, typing a few words on her computer then opening the email Jonas sent her. Her eyes widened, "Okay. Let me guess, I have to sell my soul for this?"

I smiled back, "Something like that. Ah, Mr. Walker, please join us."

Mr. Walker came in and sat down across the desk, "Mrs. Demolles, I must inform you that unless the outstanding payment is met, the NRCB will be forced to-"

"It will be, Mr. Walker." Rachel replied, "As Quaestor Ouroboros has been named the third party intermediary and all forms are in order, this meeting is over. You may leave."

Mr. Walker was livid, getting up and slamming the door behind him.

"Sorry, gotta run." I grinned, "I'll have the money to you on time, don't worry."

There were six other meetings after that, and by the end, Mr. Walker looked ready to kill me. Once they were done, I headed for the New Roman Commerce Bank -the NRCB.

"Hello, sir." The teller said, a middle-aged man with dark green eyes, "How may I help you?"

"I would like to pay off a couple of loans." I replied.

"Of course, sir. Fill out these papers for each loan and come back when you're done."

I nodded my thanks and began referencing my phone for each of the eight companies, entering the amount owed along with my status as the intermediary third party. This as political as discussions in the Senate Chamber, just in a different way. However, after the trial and now this I wanted to take a break from politics for a while. I just had to hope trouble came my way before I had to go looking for it.

* * *

**4/24/2017: Percy's POV**

I walked down the streets of one of New Rome's less-safe districts with my hood pulled up and axe in hand. The Judges had told me someone was selling a rather large amount to Greek Fire today, and that the original buyer had died. It was my job to kill the seller and make sure as many hats were on the floor as possible.

No one approached me -thugs were a common sight in New Rome, and no petty thief would try to pickpocket someone who killed for a living. Soon, I reached the position and wandered about, discretely waiting for my target while looking like I was searching for a particular house. The bomb-maker was a tall, blond man with a largish nose and grey eyes pushed a little close together, causing an end result of a mix between slimy and creepy.

And there he was, walking into the square with a hood pulled up and wearing grungy black jeans. _He's good at blending. Just not good enough._

I continued wandering as he was approached by an elderly man with greying hair in maroon robes. Who wears robes? Or, who wears robes and buys large amounts of explosives?

As I kept walking -gradually orbiting the pair- I caught sight of something in the man's left hand. Looks like a Bible, almost. The Book of Chaos? This is getting weirder by the second.

Deciding not to kill the pair of them until I could figure out exactly what was going on, I followed them out of the public square we were in and deeper into the twisting streets until we all ended up in what was generally recognized as the worst area of New Rome to be in. Not even the NRP dare venture here.

But the two kept going, until they were in front of a warehouse filled with crates of Greek fire on the edge of the district. After a few more minutes of talking, they both walked inside. I did the same, sticking to the shadows that -with the help of my powers- would hide me from sight unless someone was concentrating and expecting to see someone.

"Thank you for this, friend Richard. It will greatly aid the Children of Chaos in our holy journey." The elderly man smiled like a proud grandfather, resting his hand on the seller -Richard's- shoulder.

"As long as I get paid, I'll get whatever you want." replied Richard, in a tone that implied he didn't care about the old man's cause. That he shrugged off the hand also gave that impression.

"Now, how are you sure this shipment will remain safe until Monday?" The elderly man asked, his tone becoming more serious.

To answer that, Richard instead turned to the side and cupped his hands in a shout, "Hey, Burns! Get in here!"

I kept watching as a big man came in, with a huge _gladius_ strapped to his back, "Yeah?"

_Well, they want__ed__ hats on the floor._ I stepped out of the shadows and started running. My axe swung up and embedded in Richard's neck before I spun to face Burns. His_ gladius_ slammed into the shaft of my axe and sent me staggering backwards.

"Get in here!" yelled Burns as he raised his sword again. Six more goons ran into the warehouse, wielding an assortment of _gladii_ and _pila_.

I grinned under my hood, bringing my axe and summoning a short glaive. _I wouldn't want anyone recognizing Shadow, after all._ They all ran at me together. Surrounding me before attacking was their first mistake, as my glaive swept across one's chest and knocked him out of the fight while my axe knocked aside a _gladius_. The fighting after that, though, was brutal. Burns and his friends knew how to fight dirty, and proceeded to do just that. But they were still outmatched in skill, as my glaive became an iron blur of pain while my axe kept forcing them to jump back from wide, powerful strokes.

The weird guy with the robe was staying back, and appeared to be praying to someone. Another goon fell under my glaive, his arm nearly sliced off and his throat brutally cut. There were three left facing me, including Burns himself. Shadows detached themselves from the edge of the room and impaled him while we were fighting, then I dispatched the last two in a similar fashion and turned to the weird guy.

"You may kill me, but the Children of Chaos will persist! Our god is all-powerful, all-knowing and infinite! Your pagan cults will perish as he cleanses the world!" the elderly man said. This continued on for a while longer, before I got tired of his fervor and stabbed him.

I was about to leave when an idea popped into my head. _After all, why wait for a crisis when you can make one?_

A jury-rigged timer was attached to the wooden panels of the crates before I started jamming the dead goon's weapons between the door handles that led out of the building -effectively locking it. Then I left, jumping into the shadows and coming out in my apartment.

* * *

**4/25/2017: Percy's POV**

I nervously knocked on the door of Miranda's apartment, dressed in my finest suit -not that I had very many- and carrying a single rose in my hands.

Soon the door opened, showing the stunning beauty Miranda was when she wanted to be: Gold earrings with sapphires sparkled, matching her eyes while a bit of dark eye-shadow matched a short, black dress that mixed elegance and sexy in a way only she could. Her blond hair was perfectly styled, held by a crescent-shaped pin, soft and sweeping past her shoulders. Soft, black gloves went from the tips of her fingertips to her elbow, but would have to go a bit further the short sleeves that came from her dress. All in all, it reminded me of just how lucky I was to have a date like her. Her red lipstick matched the rose that was now tucked into her hair, under the crescent-shaped pin.

"Di immortals, Miranda. You look . . . well, I would say stunning, but that doesn't hold a candle to you." I said. _Smooth or what?_

"Just shut up and give me your arm, Ekdikisi." Miranda replied, and I did just that. "You would not believe how much Auralius spent to make sure I looked like this."

"That's the mark of a true politician." I smiled, "Getting your enemies pay for dressing up your date."

Miranda let out a quiet laugh, "That is certainly true. So, regal me with something I can give to Scott."

Together, we entered the elevator and I was about to hit the button for the lobby before a truly excellent idea entered my head, "Politics will have to wait until we get to stairwell . . . I really hope someone's waiting for us in the lobby."

With Miranda slightly mystified as to what was happening, I hit the lobby button before pulling us out of the elevator and heading for the stairwell, where we could shadow-travel in relative secret.

"Hold on tight, Ms. Lytvyn. I'd hate to have to explain to Auralius how his protégé ended up in China." I said, once the door shut behind us and plunged the stairwell into darkness. We both disappeared, stepping out of the shadows at the bottom. Miranda, prepared for the trip, didn't even have a hair out of place as she looked at me coolly.

"And what was that for, Mr. Ekdikisi?"

"Well, we should see in a few seconds." I dodged, before opening the door to the first floor and peeking out. As I suspected, there was a reporter from the _Times_ at the bottom. "Here, take a look."

Miranda, having cottoned onto my line of thinking at this point, also saw the reporter, then smirked when the elevator opened and he rushed forward with a microphone -only for the elevator to be empty, "Clever. I like it."

"Now let's go before he notices us." I suggested, before opening the door fully and striding out with the most beautiful women in the world at my side. There was a chariot waiting just outside -more of a carriage than a chariot, really- but one should always spend the most money on the first date -because for all you know, there might not be a second. _In which case I would be an idiot with a thinner wallet, but that's beside the point._

I helped my date into the chariot -not that she needed any- before climbing in the other side and lacing our fingers together. "Domus Pretiosarum Epularum, if you will."

The driver flicked the reins, sending us off at a speed that was fast enough to get to our destination quickly, but not fast enough to be very rocky or blow hair around. After all, he was a professional -the equivalent of a limo driver in the mortal world.

Soon enough, we pulled up in front of the restaurant itself, the name made of gold inlaid on polished marble above the entrance. On the inside, the marble soon gave way to darkened spruce, with candles to provide lighting -one didn't go to the House of Expensive foods with a large group. Usually, it was couples.

Almost as soon as we stepped inside, a man dressed in the fine uniform of the House's employees came up, "Do you have a reservation, Mr . . .?"

"Quaestor, actually. Quaestor Ouroboros and Ms. Miranda Lytvyn." I corrected, "I believe we have a private room?"

"Yes, I believe you do." replied the man, quickly checking a booklet before leading us to a back room, "Just in here. When you are ready for a server, please press the button right side of the table."

"Thank you." Miranda replied, both of us walking through the door while the employee closed it behind us. Ever the gentleman, I pulled out Miranda's chair for her before taking my own seat. Looks like you were right in teaching me manners, Mother.

"So, Quaestor, would you mind telling me something I could give to Scott?" asked the daughter of Nemesis, looking over a menu.

"That really is a complex question, Ms. Lytvyn." I replied, before gently taking the menu from her hands, "I ordered the food beforehand. I also have to tell you something Mrs. White won't kill me for."

"Well?"

"Fine, Miranda. You know me too well." I smiled at her, but she wasn't fooled.

"Quit stalling, Perseus, and tell me." she shot back, but I caught the undercurrent of playfulness that held the entire conversation in it's grasp.

I sighed in mock defeat, "The Fundamentalists are putting pressure on the businesses that support the NRLC."

"And . . . ?" Miranda prompted, "I do not believe you would tell me this unless the situation was already brought to a close."

I nodded, waiting for the appetizer to arrive, "I managed to pay off their debts, although I would suggest you not tell Scott that. I'd rather have Macintyre try to force those businesses to close, but it's your choice."

Then a man quietly walked into the room, carrying two small plates of salad and fancy glasses of water -with lemon, of course. We both carefully spread the napkin over our laps, Miranda somehow being able to turn even that small action into a picture of grace. I had the funny feeling that the napkin was just for show -the Miranda Lytvyn I knew wouldn't let anything get on her dress. _So I'll just have to do my best to emulate that._

There wasn't much of the salad to begin with -it was only an appetizer, after all- but we both ate it while casually discussing plans to discredit the Freethinkers and eventually take over the world. _You know, the usual first date confab._

Soon, the salad was finished and -knowing neither of us would appreciate a three-hour dinner with dozens of dishes- the next course was the main course: Veal with a side of oysters, accompanied by a bowl of fresh figs. For a fact, I knew Miranda liked all three, but I was somewhat nervous about the bottle of 1904 Château d'Yquem I ordered with it.

Thankfully, the bottle of wine just raised one of Miranda's eyebrows while the server poured us both a glass and left us the bottle.

"This could not have been cheap." Miranda said, taking a careful sip of the wine. _So this is your first time drinking too?_

I shrugged, "Only the best for Ms. Lytvyn. Never let it be said that I can't show you a good time."

"Indeed." replied the daughter of Nemesis, cutting into the veal while I took my first sip of the fine wine. It burned a little going down, but had a mix of flavors only a true wine connoisseur would appreciate. _Pity I'm not one of them._

We kept talking as the meal was carried on, the bottle of Château d'Yquem taking a beating as the two of us got more used to the slight burning it gave. The veal, oysters and figs were really quite good -as expected in this level of restaurant.

"So, have the Freethinkers told you anything?" I asked, trying the oysters and discovering I liked them. Not what I expected, not at all.

Miranda shrugged elegantly, "They told me what to ask you. Mostly along the lines of the Faunus Registration Act. Some wanted to make covert inquiries about your recent whistleblowing, whether it would continue onto the Freethinkers or stick to the Fundamentalists -or even the Centrists. If you're changing targets, I'm supposed to dissuade you, or encourage you if you're staying with the Fundamentalists."

"Hmph. You'd think a bit of honesty in the politics would be a good thing." I replied sarcastically.

"Honesty is like all other things: Good in very strict moderation. All other things but money, that is. I would be hard pressed to find one who believes anything less than buckets of money are good things."

"It's the golden rule: People with gold make rules. And everyone likes making rules."

"True, true." Miranda acknowledged, taking another sip of wine, "Why do you think there are so many teachers? Because everyone wants to control the rulers."

"You could certainly pencil me into that line of work." Both of us let out tipsy laughs at that.

But Miranda, of course, needs to have the last word, "Do you have anything on paper about that ambition?"

I threw my hands up in surrender, "You win, I can't think of a sentence to use scissors in."

Meanwhile, the server entered with the dessert -Chocolate-Bourbon Tart. A grand misnomer, really, the "Tart" was really quite sweet, and the bourbon only added a light smoky flavor -perfect to create depth to the truffle-tasting chocolate dough.

Both of us took a slice, enjoying the treat in less important discussion than before. Almost like we were a pair of rich people on a date, not a ruthlessly beautifully manipulator and a criminal -who had already been executed- plotting to take over the world.

That, of course, found its way into the discussion as tongues were well and truly loosened.

"Why Perseus, I glad you think so highly of me. I wouldn't want you forgetting how I weaseled my way into the Freebees without the money you flaunt." Miranda replied, her voice only a little slurred by the drink.

"Maybe we should continue this elsewhere. Can't make fools of ourselves, after all." I said, grabbing the half-full bottle of wine and offering my arm to my date, "We can drink the rest of this in the apartment."

"Why not?" Miranda took my arm and we left together, going back outside to where the chariot-carriage was still waiting. We traveled at a respectable pace through the city, eventually arriving back "home.".

"Hey." called the female driver, who held out a bottle of champagne, "Congratulations, I read about you to in the paper. Here, take it."

Hesitant at accepting something that I had no idea of the origins -and from someone I vaguely recognized-, I nonetheless took it, "Thanks."

"No prob." Julia Scott smiled to herself as she left the pair of demigods behind -if they drink it, Auralius wouldn't even consider adopting that bitch Lytvyn and her inheritance would be secure.

I shook my head, that driver probably just had one of those faces. Once inside, I called the elevator while turning back to my date, "Remind me to get rid of this."

"Will do." was her reply as we stepped into the small metal box. Actually, an elevator would be perfect to kill someone in. No room to run and hardly any to dodge. _Good thing we're alone._

"Your room or mine?" I asked as we got out.

"Mine. At least it feels like a room."

I laughed, "You have a point, mine might as well be rented out as office space."

Miranda fumbled with the key a little, before accidentally dropping it, "Looks like I had more wine than I thought . . ."

"Eh." I replied, kicking the keys under the door, then grabbing Miranda's arm and creating a shadow on the door itself. We walked right through, coming out on the other side. "Know where I could get some glasses?"

"Cabinet left of the sink." Miranda called, moving a smaller table to a sofa along with a pair of candles. Quickly cottoning on, I flicked the lights off and brought the half-finished bottle of wine, the champagne also coming along for the ride before I tossed it onto a different chair.

I poured us both a glass of wine, quickly kissing Miranda and sitting next to her before the audacity of my actions could catch up to me.

"So, what do we do now?" asked my date, taking another sip of wine

"I have no idea. Twenty questions?" I replied, not meaning to be taken seriously.

Miranda, on the other hand, took it seriously, "How about, instead of an object, who your latest crush was?"

_Uh-oh._ "Sure. Do you want to start?"

"Why not?" Miranda took another drink of wine, "Male or female?"

"Female."

"Hair colour?"

"Blond."

"Eye colour?"

"Blue-white." I smirked, knowing I was describing Miranda.

She sighed, "Not me, Perseus. Before me. Let's start again: Male or female?"

"Female."

"Hair colour?"

"Black."

"Eye colour?"

"Silver."

"Age?"

This time, I was the one to take a gulp of wine, "Six-hundred and five, I believe. She aged well."

Miranda considered her next question, "Species?"

"Mortal."

"Occupation?"

_Damn, she got me._ "Tutor."

"The French girl, Joan." correctly guessed the daughter of Nemesis.

I sighed, "Yep. My turn, now. Male or female?"

"Female."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised, "Hair colour?"

"Black."

"Eye colour?"

"Black."

"Age?"

"A few thousand years, at least."

_Goddess, then?_ "Species?"

"Mortal."

_Not goddess, then._ "Occupation?"

"Hunter."

_Ah._ "Build?"

"Big. Strong. Dominant."

I sighed, "Height?"

"An inch or so taller than me."

"Living or dead?"

"Dead."

Ok, so that narrows it down to a few hundred. _Not Zoe, definitely, and probably not anyone Orion killed._ "I give up."

"Phoebe."

I took another gulp of wine, "That's a surprise. I never thought you and Phoebe even knew each other."

"The Hunt brought me to Camp. Phoebe was the one who found me, rescued me from a rapist actually." Miranda drained her glass, as if drowning out the memory, "I lived with them for a few weeks, before they went to Camp and dropped me off. In fact, they gave me this."

She reached up into her hair, taking the crescent-shaped pin out and watching as it morphed into a bow.

"I've seen that before." I said, trying to remember those years ago, "Hephaestus' junkyard. Zoe said it was cursed."

Miranda shrugged, "Phoebe gave it to me. Said they raided it a while back."

She poured the rest of the wine into her cup -barely a mouthful- before drinking it.

"Sorry for your loss, then." I said, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the fact that I, or at least the Pack I was working with, was probably responsible for it.

Miranda sighed, "Don't be. It wasn't your fault, Perseus."

"All the same, I need a drink." I reaching out, grabbing the champagne bottle. My better sense warned me not to open it, but I was too tipsy to care and popped the cork anyways, "Cheers."

We both drank deeply, before leaning into each other for a kiss. That kiss soon turned hotter, until the champagne bottle -and my shirt- were lying on the table, forgotten. It was a long time latter before we slept.

* * *

**A/N: Yep, that happened. Bit early in their relationship, but Percy definitely made a mistake in having figs and oysters _a__nd_ his first time drinking. Mix that with whatever's in the champagne and how attractive they find each other and, well, you know. Hopefully, I won't have to explain the birds and the bees to y'all.**

**I would put "Please review, follow . . ." here, but I was a little bored of typing that . . . **


	16. Chapter 14- The Plot Thickens

**A/N: Hey, I'm back. I'm going to start posting info I think is important at the top of the chapter, like this: **

**Characters: **

**Percy: 18 years old. - Miranda: 19 years old. - Zoe: 12 years old. - Declan: 17 years old. - Mrs. White: 61 years old. - Macintyre: 53 years old. - Auralius Scott: 42 years old. - Joffery Harrison: 38 years old. **

**The Senate (339 members): **

**The NRLC: 42 members. - The Fundamentalists: 69 members. - The Centrists: 85 members. - The Freethinkers: 111 members. - The Independents: 12 members. **

**Other Factions: **

**The Hunt: 13 members. - The Pack: 32 members. - FUSE: 73 members. - Chaos' Faction: Who knows? **

Chapter 14- The Plot Thickens

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I woke up the next day with a small splatter of blood on my thighs, my head complaining from a very slight hangover. _Miranda's first time . . . and my own as well._

Walking over to the bathroom, I took a towel to clean up the various dried fluids on my thighs -the less hot part of sex- and pulled on a bathrobe. There was no wondering how we would adapt to this development -after all, this was something they both wanted. _Perhaps not so quickly, though. __I didn't think either of us would be ready for this step . . . ah, Hades._

I quietly exited the bathroom, creeping over to the champagne bottle and sniffing. It didn't smell odd, but then again I only had a faint idea of what champagne was supposed to smell like -I'd have to take it down to the Underworld if I wanted a true breakdown.

"Perseus?" Miranda groaned as she turned over in bed, "I'd ask if that was your first time, but I already know it was."

I grinned, taking a small, damp towel and tossing it to her, "What'll you have for breakfast?"

"You can cook?" asked the daughter of Nemesis in mock surprise.

"Hey, just because I eat peanut-butter and cereal three times a day doesn't mean I can't fix a good meal!" We both laughed as I set about making pancakes from my mother's personal recipe. And nothing could compare to the look on Miranda's face when I set them down, along with coffee and a few strips of bacon.

"Blue?" Miranda asked incredulously.

I smilied, "Inside joke. Trust me, they're delicious."

"But _blue_?"

"Be thankful the bacon isn't blue too." I smirked at the look on her face, "Trust me, Miranda, you'll love it."

"Trust the person who's plotting to take over the world, backstabbed at least two powerful organizations, murdered dozens, and has lied to everyone about everything from your name to your species?"

"Your words, my love, they _sting_." I placed a hand over my heart dramatically, the very picture of wounded dignity. Then the hand dropped and the sly smile found it's way onto my face again, "But yeah, that about sums it up. You're forgetting the property damage, though. Speaking of which-" I glanced at my watch, "There'll be some fireworks in, oh, five minutes."

"Where?"

"Let's just say you can get a great view from your window." I nodded to the window in question before taking another bathrobe, "Can you put something on? You're very . . . distracting as is."

The sexy daughter of Nemesis quirked an eyebrow, "Am I? Or are you afraid of what would happen if you get to close?"

"Both. I don't really have time to ravish you, eat breakfast, and arrive at the Senate in time." I answered honestly.

"Hmm. So the Senate is more important than your girlfriend?"

"Duty calls before booty calls, I'm afraid." I shrugged, not meeting her eyes, "This is my life, my purpose, my duty. I'd like to give it all up for you, but this isn't a trashy romance novel and I'm not a vampire. I'll sacrifice everything to accomplish the task the Judges set to me."

"Even me? If I had to die, would you wield the dagger yourself?" asked Miranda, forcing my eyes to meet her's, those icy blue eyes searching my soul.

I hesitated before making up my mind, "Yes. I can't prioritize your life over the hundreds that die every century, just because Zeus wants to remain in his throne. My soul and mind are dedicated to seeing him fall, and I can't be balancing you as well. I'm sorry, Miranda, so sorry. But you'll have to be content with what's left, because that's all I can give you."

"And what _is_ left, Perseus Jackson?" Miranda pressed, searching my eyes, "Your love is already in the Underworld, waiting for you in the Isle of the Blest. What will happen to me when you die? Would I be forgotten for your beloved daughter of Athena?"

Those words struck deep, hitting me right where it hurt: Loyalty. _My fatal flaw for goo__d reason, it seems._

"I know Annabeth, and I know she would want me to move on. If she was here, she would slap me upside the head and call me a Seaweed Brain for hesitating." I sighed, "And I don't know the entirety of what's left besides my soul and mind, but two things seem apparent."

Miranda finally found the answer she was looking for, "Your heart . . . and your body."

"And I had never given anyone my body before last night, nor did Annabeth take my heart as you did. You're mind's more sharp and cunning than mine, you have beauty enough to make Aphrodite faint and power to match. I could list what I love about you until I wither away." I took a deep breath, taking one of Miranda's hands, "I don't want to have to carry this out without you, but I can't let you stop me from making my mission complete."

My watch beeped, prompting a quick glance down. The five minutes had passed, which means a fireball was going to color the sky any minute.

"Any second now, Ms. Lytvyn." I warned, "And even if our relationship won't work, can we at least be allies? I could use you in my plans, and I'm sure you could use me."

"Using you sounds very appealing, Mr. Ekdikisi, but I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. I will be content with your heart and body, because those are the most precious and fragile things you have. Perhaps not as useful as your mind, nor as determined as your soul, but worth even more." Miranda was cut off by a bright flash of green fire, enveloping a warehouse and vaporizing the area around it.

"_Di immortals_!" cursed Miranda, then turned to me, "I sincerely hope they can't prove you were around there. The fallout from this will be massive."

"I know. Care to check over the speech?" I asked, wanting -needing- to bring the situation away from us possibly breaking up. Miranda nodded, silent, and I shadow-traveled through the wall, returning with a sheet of paper -it couldn't be that long, as I supposedly made it on the spur of the moment, speaking straight from the heart.

"Very rousing." was Miranda's verdict, followed by, "Pro-Consul White will either kill you for this or promote you."

"She's already promoting me, so it looks like death it is." I shrugged, "Nice knowing you."

"You as well, Perseus." she replied, "Now, get going. Early bird gets the floor first."

"What about breakfast?" I mock-whined, looking longingly at the blue pancakes I made.

"Get something on the way. I'll enjoy your cooking here." _That evil, sexy smile. I love it._

I nearly walked into the door before opening it and stepping into the hallway -in my borrowed, pink, fluffy bathrobe.

"Ahh, just great." I mutter, dropping into the floor and ending up in my apartment. My briefcase was half-packed from last night, before I took my . . . _Girlfriend? Lover? . . . _significant other to dinner. Needless to say, I hadn't finished it.

As I hurriedly shoved things into my briefcase, I also decided on my attire. All black, for mourning, and a toga for the extra bit of _classic Roman_. After all, that was my goal: Do everything perfectly until I get to the top. _Then _the controversy starts, and the revolution.

Now ready -and dressed- I took the elevator to the lobby, making sure to look somber. After all, this was a great tragedy, a horrifying strike directed on the peoples of New Rome by an unknown and undoubtedly fearsome enemy.

I was stopped, however, when a teenager came out of the alley with a baseball bat. He was young -around fifteen- but had the confidence of a man twice his age. He carried the bat easily, as if it was used a lot, and something about him seemed . . . different: he wore a loose sweatshirt and knee-length cargo shorts. Red headphones hung around his neck, matching both his hair and a sash tied around his waist. This guy was cocky.

"Hey, wait up!" he yelled, reaching out and grabbing my arm. It was clearly a command, with a threat to those who didn't comply immediately. I twisted out of his grip with a jerk but didn't run -not until I knew more.

The teen held up an IPod, the screen facing him as he checked something. He smirked, "Prince's gonna meet you at six-thirty. Don't be late."

Then he ran off, twisting into narrow back allies and short-cuts only those intimately acquainted with the street would know.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Fellow Senators, today a great tragedy shook New Rome, shook all of us and left us feeling unsafe in our own homes. Undoubtedly, our citizens will turn to us for assistance and assurance that an attack like this will never happen again. So we _must_ give them both the assistance and assurance, even if it must come out of our own pockets. If this proposal fails to pass, I _will_ pay for all funerals, rebuilding, and compensation."

My gaze swept the chamber, making note of dissenting expressions and powerful figures. As I suspected, both Macintyre and White were watching intently, along with the party bosses of the Centrists and Fundamentalists.

"As you all know, one of us was recently proved guilty of siphoning government funds, and both his account and property has been seized by the Bureaucracy. It is quite a substantial amount, needless to say, and here is a disaster that would require a substantial sum to rebuild. An old warehouse, and a line of residential buildings to one side where vaporized; Buildings three blocks away show damage from the blast. There are seventy-nine confirmed dead, over two hundred injured."

I was suddenly struck by how many were killed in the blast; _How many I killed_. But that was locked it all up inside. Later, I'd have a good cry and regret it. Not now, though.

"Any _quaestors_ that have been doing their job -which are few, admittedly- would know that Pro-Quaester Donald Jenkins, the embezzeler, did not have enough to completely rebuild that area. But what is left of that tab could be picked up by our budget for disasters and war damage."

My proposal was quickly seconded by Pro-Consul White, the leader of the NRLC, and the debate started. As no one could really oppose helping the people, it was more the conditions of their surrender. Those in the Freethinkers opposed my proposal to pay for the repairs from my own pocket, which put them under fire from Fundamentalists who had more money than public speaking skills. The Centrists, of course, remained neutral while the NRLC supported my proposal whole-heartedly.

By the end of the day, my lightly altered proposal sailed through the Senate with universal support, and I left with my head held high -until Pro-Consul White ambushed me Jonas at her side.

"What should I do with you, Quaestor?" she asked rhetorically, "You keep acting without my sanction, yet you've proved to be corrected in your movements. Dinner at the Domus, seven-thirty. Be there, or be gone."

"Yes ma'am." I replied as she passed by me, Jonas following her like an eager dog. _A true believer._

I checked my watch. Six oh five. Twenty-five minutes before my meeting with the "Prince", and another hour after that before Pro-Consul White's dinner. _I need to get a secretary or something. Better to add one now, when I don't need one, then later when I mess up and miss something._

As soon as I got home, a misty screen appeared in front of me, showing a Judge in his golden mask, "Proctor. Come to the Underworld, there is something you desperatly need to see."

This left me in shocked surprise, then a shadow opened under my feet and I appeared in the Judging Pavilion.

In front of the Judges was a man of maybe fifty or sixty, dressed in ratty layers of street clothes. He was practically a gibbering idiot, looking around frantically and pointing at random things.

I knelt to the Judges, "What do I need to see, masters?"

"See? Look at that rock! It's the shape of the back thing-ma-jig of a airplane! You did 9/11!" said the idiot.

"This man was a homeless man who was witness to something . . . different." one of the Judges replied, with a thick German accent. He waved his hand, and the man's life was displayed in front of me: Normal childhood as a middle-class child in New York, was a contruction worker, went crazy after he saw the Trade Center towers fall up close and turned out to the streets . . . then an image froze on a picture of a hot Japanese teen and an older lady -late twenties or early thirties-, clearly not related.

"Look at the young lady on the left, and look closely." the Judge ordered, then went back in the crazy guy's memory. The hot teen walked in through a door opposite of the homeless guy, then looked straight at him.

I growled, "Drew."

"Drew Tanaka, daughter of Aphrodite and murder of nineteen. Twenty, if you count yourself. " The Judge confirmed, "But that is not all."

In a blinding flash of light, the lady appeared. She was tall, regal, and almost reminded me of Hera. But this was clearly a different goddess, "Who is she? Not Hera, I presume?"

The Judge shook his head, "Guess, Proctor."

"Rhea?"

"Older."

"Another of Gaea's human forms?"

"Older even than that."

I searched my memories, racking my very limited knowledge of Greek myths I've deemed useless. _Older than a first-generation Titan. Regal, queenly, so the ruler of a domain and not a "minor" deity. Someone thought gone for a long, long time. Ancient, powerful._ My mind went back to a text document with barely a hundred words on it, one that I created just after waking up.

"Chaos?"

The Judge nodded, "Chaos. If the records are correct, the last time we've seen her was during Ouranos' reign."

A dozen other images appeared near the first, all showing the same queenly figure. They were all undoubtedly the same person: Shoulder-length black hair, braided. Blue eyes. High, sharp cheekbones. A regal manner. _Either Chaos has an identical twin or she's still alive. And I'd bet anything on the latter._

Meanwhile, on the original set of memories, Chaos grabbed Drew and flashed away.

"I believe there is more going on here then we previously suspected." The Judge said, "This man witnessed this incident over a year ago, and only died a week ago. Admittedly, Machiavelli did not believe Drew to be the mastermind of this plot. She is too absorbed in gossip to plan something like this, nor is she powerful enough to charmspeak you like that on her own. Which means this was Chaos' idea, which in turn means we must be more careful in our movements. There are few methods of communication hidden from her gaze."

With that, the tall, thin man that served the Judges popped up, holding a charm of a set of scales. The Judge continued, "Like Kronos' scythe charm, this will allow you to communicate with anyone and everyone who holds a similar charm. Nemesis was kind enough to produce these for us. You will find more in your former quarters. Remember, do not communicate our plans verbally unless absolutetly necessary."

I picked up the charm, sliding it into my pocket. The Judge's voice now seemed to issue directly into my mind.

"Now, there are three real reasons for Drew to commit the actions she did under Chaos' orders. The first of which is to kill both you and Annabeth. That she chose to enter _your _cabin certainly gives credibility to this, but she may have just entered your cabin safe in the knowledge that you would be alone and thus easier to charmspeak than a more populated cabin."

"The second explanation would be to simply kill the entire Athena Cabin, which seems the most unlikely reason. After all, specifically targeting you and Annabeth would make Camp Half-Blood leaderless and, furthermore, distrusting of both leaders and heroes of the two Wars."

"The third explanation would be just to fake her own death. If that was her goal, she certainly chose a bloody and successful way to do it -everyone was so caught up in the tragedy no one questioned what a daughter of Aphrodite was doing in the Athena Cabin at that time."

"Regardless, this game we have been a part of has a new player, one with unknown strengths, weaknesses, allies, and rivals." The Judge looked straight at me, "Be ready, Proctor, for anything and everything."

I nodded before disappearing.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I leaned against the side of the alley I was told to meet the Prince in, wearing a dark cloak with a deep hood. My axe was sheathed on my back, but none of the passerby outside the alley even noticed my apparel or weapons. Except for the fat guy, who walked straight into the alley. He was wearing a white hoodie and sweatpants, black sunglasses under the hood and bling around his neck. On the back of his hoodie was the word "FUSE", in a yellow-red meant to be fire.

"Hey, you." he ordered, pointing to me, "Prince's gonna see you."

I nodded and stretched, taking my time.

"Now!" he ordered again.

I fixed him with my best death-glare, "I'll take as long as I want to, fat man."

He glared back, but he was sweating lightly. _Afraid of being late to your precious Prince? _I kept my stare steady, meeting his eyes through his shades.

Eventually, he backed down, "Fine, fine."

I smirked. _So he's more afraid of me than his boss. _"Eh, I'm ready. Lead on."

The fat man turned, heading deeper into the ally before ducking through an underground shelter before coming up on the other side. We went through a boat-load of twisting back allies before ending up outside a restaurant.

**Fuse's Meats!**

_Hottest Foods in New Rome_

I raised an eyebrow at the deli-style décor, but this didn't look like the typical deli: The only tables were outside. Inside was a counter with stools and a lot of people hanging around, all of them younger than thirty and most of them in street clothes. _A gang in New Rome? I shouldn't really be surprised._

"Hey, Tyrone! Who's this guy?!" one of them yelled out.

"What, you got the hots for him, Starr?" replied the guy with the headphones.

Instantly, her fist was wrapped in flames, "Ya bet I do!"

"Yeah, this guy's going to the top." shot back Tyrone. "Straight to Harrison."

"Well, better get going. You don't want to keep the Prince waiting." This was the man behind the counter, in his late thirties. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt and slacks, with spiky black hair reminiscent of Thalia's.

"More like the joker." Starr muttered, but got no further before the man the counter stepped out, grabbing her by the throat.

"You don't insult the Prince, got it?" he growled, his left hand lighting on fire, "You couldn't ask for a better leader."

Meanwhile, Tyrone opened a door behind the bar, one leading down stairs. He led me down, stopping at a door, which he knocked on.

"Enter." replied another voice, this one more commanding than others in the bar, more powerful. But it was detached, as if this was just another job that he _had _to do.

I opened the door and stepped in, shutting it behind me. It was a dark room, a desk at one end with a few chairs in front of it. Behind it was a tall man in a fur lined coat, the front opened displaying a black Arcade Fire t-shirt. He was leaning back in a swivel chair, booted feet propped up on his desk

"So you're the Senator that's showing up in the papers." His eyes, naturally red, met mine, "You screwed up bad, kid. If I were you, I wouldn't mess with us in the future."

My mind whirred, sorting through possibilities, "The Greek Fire?"

"Got it in one, kid."

"I'm not a _kid_, Harrison." I growled, itching to draw my axe.

"So you know my name. Some of my grunts have a bigger mouth than sense." he replied, still looking bored. He held out a hand, "Joffery Harrison."

"Perseus Ouroboros." I went to shake it, but instead he grabbed my wrist and twisted. My hand was palm up, the eclipse design in plain sight.

"Hmph. I thought so." Harrison growled, "Where's the Sword, kid?"

"You think I'm stupid enough to take it?" I shot back. Something about him just made me iching for a fight.

"You're stupid either way. The arrogance of a teenager." He leaned back again, taking a cigarette from a drawer and sticking it in his mouth. A flick of the finger, and it was set alight. Harrison took a long drag, before blowing out a puff of smoke.

_Who the Hades is this guy? Not only does can he control fire, everyone under him can too._ "How?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Harrison held up his right hand, palm outwards. On it was a Celtic _cen_, a rune for torch and the Sword of Fire's brand. At least, according to Jeanne.

_Well, at least I know where all four of them are now._ "So what am I doing here?"

Harrison shrugged, "Just wanted to met the wielder of Shadow. A much more tame blade than Fire. There are so few actually influential people in New Rome. The party leaders. That Freethinker, Auralius. The leader of Chaos' Children. I. And you, as it appears. With your money and your Sword, you could be quite annoying. Maybe I should kill you now."

"That might be harder than you think." I warned.

He shook his head, "No, it really wouldn't be."

A sharp point of fire flew from his cigarette, flying towards me. I lunged at the wall, sinking into the shadows . . . or trying to, but I bounced off the wall.

Harrison chuckled, "This room is a box of Stygian Iron, Celestial Bronze, and Imperial Gold. Not even an Olympian can shadow-travel in or out. You're trapped with a roaring fire, Perseus."

Now columns of flame erupted from all over his body, twisting and coiling before shooting at me. I tried to form solid shields of shadow, but nothing came and I was forced to roll away.

"You see? You cannot draw power from your blade. Practically every connection is cut in this room." he snarled, "You would be dead if I was trying to kill you. I've trapped minor gods in this room and cooked them until they gave me what I wanted."

Suddenly, the fire vanished, "But I'm not trying to kill you. So go before I change my mind, and grow up some before playing with the adults again."

Defeated, I opened the door and walked out to the laughter of Tyrone, Starr, and the others.

* * *

**A/N: A shorter chapter this time, but I was really rushed on this. Anyways, two more factions introduced this chapter: FUSE and Chaos. **


	17. AN- Read It or the Story's Over

**A/N: I'm sorry to say I won't be continuing this story, mostly because I became disenchanted with the plot I had set up. It was really complex, too complex for me to handle, actually. I've missed things that I should've written, and forgotten things I had planned. Most of all, I kept this in first person, which was a big mistake on my part.**

**This story is up for adoption if anyone cares to try and improve it. If anyone wants to, I'll transfer the documents and tell them the plot I was originally going to have. Their choice whether to follow it, of course, I just ask that you disclaim the first chapters as mine, 'cause I don't want anyone to give the adopter any trouble.**

**Also, please take the poll on my profile to determine what story I'll write next.**


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